
Class L_r_i2 

Book >C^^ 



Copyright "N°. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




DR. JAMES H. CARLISLE. 



ADDRESSES 



OF 



J. H. CARLISLE 

1825-1909 



WOFFORD COLLEGE 

SPARTANBURG, S. C. 



Edited by His Son 
J. H. CARLISLE, JR. 



Colombia, S. C. 

THE STATE CO.. PUBLISHERS 

1910 






CopyrigHt 1910 

By 

The State Company 



(g;CU26827l 



'»'* 



To the Students and Alumni of Wo-fford College^ 
whom he loved so well, this volume is affectionately 
dedicated. 

J. E. CARLISLE, JR., 

Spartanburg, S. G. 



CONTENTS 



Page 

Graduating Valedictory Address 7 

Graduating Speech at South Carolina College, December 2, 1844. 

The Character of Shelly's Writings 11 

At South Carolina College, December 2, 1844. 

Dangers of a Student's Life 16 

Address at Academy of Cokesbury, S. C, July, 1854. 

Study of Mathematics 41 

Address at Wofford Commencement, June 27, 1855. 

Address at Reidville Academy 58 

Delivered at Opening of the Academy, 1859. 

Some of the Characteristics of the Present Age as Illustrated 
by the Progress of Astronomy During the Last Few 
Years 76 

Address before the Preston and Calhoun Societies, July 11, 1860. 

Some of the Mistakes That a Young Teacher May Make . . 93 
Address before the Educational Institute of South Carolina, 
December 21, 1870. 

"Let Your Life be Quiet," and "Let Your Quiet Life Leave 

Its Memorials" . . : 108 

Address before the Young Ladies of the Wesleyan Female Col- 
lege, Macon, Ga., 1875. 

Address as Fraternal Delegate from Methodist Episcopal 

Church, South 126 

Delivered at General Conference Held in Cincinnati, May, 1880. 

Madame DeStael 152 

Address made at Columbia College, Columbia, S. C. 

On the Death of D. E. Converse 152 

Address at the Funeral, October, 1899. 

The Proper Literature of Sunday School Libraries . . . 154 



6 Contents. 

Page 

The South Carolina Judge 164 

Lecture before the Teachers' Summer School, Spartanburg, 
S. C, June 29, 1901. 

William C. Preston 178 

Lecture before the Teachers' Summer School, Spartanburg, 
S. C, July 4, 1901. 

John Belton O'Neall 194 

Lecture before the Teachers' Summer School, Spartanburg, 
S. C, July 11, 1901. 

George McDuffie 208 

Lecture before the Teachers' Summer School, Spartanburg, 
S. C, July 2, 1901. 

Eegrets of An Old Teacher 221 

Lecture before the Teachers' Summer School, Spartanburg, 
S. C, July 13, 1901. 

Mark xv 1-15 239 

Address Delivered before the Graduating Class of Wofiford Col- 
lege, at Spartanburg, S. C, June 5, 1904. 



J. H. Carlisle 



GRADUATING VALEDICTORY ADDRESS, DECEMBER 2, 1844, 
AT THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE. 

Sir : It is not intended on this occasion by encomiums idle and 
insincere, by adulation fulsome and unmeaning to attempt to 
add anything to the dignity of the office which you fill. Our 
State repays those who serve her faithfully with honors more 
enduring, rewards more substantial than any we can offer you 
here amid the pomp and circumstance of a Commencement day. 
She has, however, exhibited the high regard which she bears for 
the cause of learning by providing that the highest officer recog- 
nized by her laws should preside over the Board to which is com- 
mitted the care of this institution. And it is but meet that a 
faithful discharge of the duties attendant upon that office should 
not pass without a feeble tribute on an occasion like this. We 
are proud, not only as students under your care, but as citizens, to 
bear testimony to the honorable zeal which has ever been mani- 
fested by Your Excellency, not only for this institution, but for 
the cause of learning in general. In your late message while 
recommending to the legislature a subject which lies near your 
heart you remarked that "Ignorance and free institutions cannot 
long co-exist." It would seem, sir, that you had taken this for 
your motto throughout your whole official career. You will soon 
resign your seat as the chief director of the affairs of this insti- 
tution ; this you may do leaving behind you an example which it 
will show wisdom in your successor to imitate. You will also 
then resign the chair of state to him whom the voice of the people 
may call to succeed you, this you may do with the reflection (than 
which I can conceive none more gratifying) that you have 
received, and receiving have not betrayed the confidence of your 
noble and generous State. (This for I. H. Hammond, Governor.) 

Gentlemen of the Senate and House of Representatives : 

Members of the body which for more than forty years have 
watched over this institution with parental fondness. We have 



8 Addresses 

no long catalogue of alumni reaching through several successive 
generations to produce and display in triumph before you. But 
if called on to produce proof that the care of the State had not 
been here bestowed wholly in vain we could most readily do this 
by a reference to your own body. In your midst, among those 
who make as well as those who administer the laws of the State, 
are many to whom she now exultingly points as her jewels who 
first here received that strength which they are now expending 
in her service. Many years have elapsed since you have been 
called on to legislate for war, this season of peace and quiet (may 
it long continue ! ) has been spent by you in adding to the wealth 
and dignity of the State, in developing her resources of mind and 
making her rich in all that "constitutes a state." If England's 
patriot bard was not mistaken, if it be true that "peace hath her 
victories no less renown than war," surely to scatter with a lavish 
hand the fruitful seeds of education, irradiate with the lamp of 
knowledge even the lower walks of life, to throw its cheering ray 
into every cottage door, this must be the noblest of all triumphs of 
peace. Having just enjoyed the means of education which are 
here so abundant we are prepared to appreciate and feel grateful 
for the liberality which has furnished them. We are prepared to 
wish you abundant success in your noble endeavor to render this 
institution an ornament and blessing to the State. May peace and 
harmony preside over your deliberations during this seemingly 
eventful period of our country's history. May the session, upon 
the important duties of which you have just entered, produce 
results of lasting benefit to the State. 

Gentlemen of the Board of Trustees : 

To none of her citizens has our State committed a more 
important trust than to you. If there is one State in the Union 
which more than others should guard with care the discipline and 
training of her sons this is that State. For the hearts and minds 
of her people have made South Carolina whatever she is today. 
If she has been enabled to discharge her share of duties in the 
family of States to which she belongs with any degree of credit 



J. H. Carlisle 9 

to herself, if in every noble enterprise the post which she claims 
is no dishonorable one, not far behind the foremost, if throughout 
the Union her character is such that no one, high-minded and 
honorable as he may be, need blush to claim citizenship here; for 
this character she is indebted not to wealth or extent of territory, 
but to the intelligence, the patriotism of her sons. These have 
always been at once her wealth and her defense and she asks no 
other now. From the post assigned you it would seem the State 
expected you to become leaders and guides in the great work of 
reforming the intellectual condition of her people. This expecta- 
tion has not been disappointed. The past conduct of the Board 
gives the best assurance that no means will be spared to dissem- 
inate intelligence, patriotism and virtue through our beloved 
State. 

Respected Sir : 

The exercises of this day close the relation which has so long 
existed between us as teachers and pupils. Others have already 
taken our places in your lecture room. The time has come when 
we must go forth and try what success we may meet with in 
endeavoring to put into practice those rules for the conduct of life 
which it has been your earnest endeavors to impress upon our 
minds. Allow us to return to you, and through you to those who 
are associated with you in the government of this institution, our 
thanks for the interest you have manifested in our behalf, in 
public and in private, in the study and in the lecture room, for 
the manner in which you have endeavored to beguile us on to the 
task of mental and moral discipline by mingling instructions 
with pleasure. We are called on to leave but not forget those 
with whom we have been associated here and from whom we have 
received faithful counsel. These, gentlemen, are no unmeaning 
words. It is no feigned emotion we exhibit on being called on 
to dissolve a relation which for more than three years has bound 
us together, a relation which while it has been profitable to one 
party, has been, we hope, pleasant and interesting to both. With 
their best wishes for your peace and prosperity individually and 



10 Addresses 

as a body, Mr. President and gentlemen of the faculty, the mem- 
bers of the graduating class bid you Farewell. (Faculty: Dr. 
Henry, President. Dr. Hooper, Dr. Ellet, Dr. Lieber, Dr. J. H. 
Thornwell, Dr. Laborde, Mr. Twiss.) 

Classmates : 

I shall not attempt to detain you long by any unmeaning 
phrases conjured up to serve this occasion. It is true we have 
met for the last time as a class, this might suggest many reflec- 
tions which it would be pleasant for us to indulge in together, but 
the lingering moments seem to warn us that our parting benedic- 
tions must be brief. This is not the time nor this the manner in 
which those feelings attendant upon the separation and dispersion 
of a class are to be exhibited by us, or, I fear, appreciated by 
others. It is only meant that here we snatch a hurried farewell, 
cast a lingering glance on familiar scenes and familiar faces; 
and then each must nerve himself for the task alloted him in life. 
It seems but yesterday since we met, formed each others acquaint- 
ance and commenced to run our race together. Since that time 
we together have passed through the labor, together shared the 
pleasures of a college life. The graduating day, so long looked 
for with mingled emotions by us all, has at length approached, 
has almost passed, we are prolonging it but for a moment to 
pronounce the word which, once spoken, severs us from each other 
forever. He who has been made the organ of the class on this 
occasion, instead of detaining you with his reflections, would 
prefer leaving you to your own. A few of us, gentlemen, may 
after a lapse of years meet and (as I can imagine some around 
me are doing now) review college associations, incidents and 
friendships, but as a class we may never all meet again. And 
the meeting then^ even of those few who are privileged to meet, 
will be under circumstances very different from the parting 
today. I feel that the separation now to take place will between 
many of us be final and forever. I can only, classmates, with my 
heartfelt wishes to each of you for your success in life, bid you a 
Long Farewell. Jas. H. Carlisle. 



J. H. Carlisle 11 



THE CHARACTER OF SHELLY'S WRITINGS. 

Graduation Speech December 2, 1844, at the South Carolina 
College, Columbia, S. C. 

It often happens that the decision passed upon any celebrated 
writer by one generation is reversed by the next. Public opinion, 
however, after frequent vibration and continued wavering, at one 
time raising him above his proper place, again sinking him below 
it, is finally adjusted and points with precision to the niche in 
the temple of fame to which he is justly entitled. Shelly seems to 
be one of those concerning whose true character there is still some 
dispute. Many are now disposed to view him in a light very 
different from that in which he was viewed by his contemporaries. 
The discovery has recently been made that mankind have until 
now been strangely treating with cold neglect the memory of one 
to whom they are much indebted, that Shelly was indeed one of 
their greatest benefactors. At such a time when we are called on 
to join the triumphal procession which is to be marshaled in 
great pomp to disinter him from his unhonored grave and place 
upon his head almost a martyr's crown; when he is classed 
among those illustrious reformers of whom the world is not 
worthy, when the world is called on to make swift atonement for 
its long delay in rendering him justice, the question is surely a 
proper one, "Why is the world under such great obligations to 
Shelly ? If by his writings he sought to win his erring brethren 
back to virtue, if he rebuked the vices and ridiculed the follies of 
them, if with Dr. Johnson he labored to "give ardor to virtue and 
confidence to truth," he well deserves the place assigned him. 
But if we find him striving rather to mislead and bewilder than 
correct and instruct mankind, we may at least call for some 
abatement in the tribute which it is proposed to give him. It is 
true that he often alluded in feeling terms to the misery and woe 
which make up the sum of human existence. In this we need not 
question his sincerity. There is much to move us to sympathy in 



12 Addresses 

our intercourse with the world. The shouts of those who are 
rejoicing reach our ears mingled with the groans of those who 
are suffering. The palace of the rich casts its shadow on the 
hovel of the poor. Before we have been long in the world we all 
find reason to exclaim with reference to its moral appearance as 
Franklin did with reference to its geological aspect, "Truly it is 
the wreck of a world we live in." Esepcially does it become those 
who are endowed with the tender sensibilities of genius 

"To mourn with sympathizing mind 
The wrongs of fate, the woes of human liind." 

This has been characteristic of those who feel within them the 
prompting of a spirit nobler and more ethereal than belongs to 
men of common mould. Even poor Burns, who could sing so 
sweetly of virtue, while he allured to vice, felt a desire that 
when "he swept his hand uncouthly o'er the string" of his rusty 
harp the simple strains might not just please the ears of his 
countrymen and then be forgotten. But he who would leave 
behind him a name dear to succeeding ages must go farther than 
this. If we find in Shelly no attempt to heal the woes of which 
he made such loud complaint then indeed all his rhapsodies and 
tears over the miseries of man will make little impression upon 
us. They will only remind us of some one who if he had power 
would strike out from the Heavens the Sun and then weep that 
the world was left in darkness. We believe you may rise from 
the perusal of his work with no virtuous principle strengthened, 
no firm resolve implanted, no noble aspirations imparted. To 
which of his writings would you go for support in those days of 
darkness and weariness which come upon all, when hope seems 
prostrate, your energies lifeless, your strength failing and for a 
moment the whole world tottering in its course? His writings 
tend only to kindle in the reader a morbid sensibility, a restless 
disposition, which leads him to mope about like Hamlet and 
complain that all things are flat, stale and unprofitable. And if 
he should become as deeply imbued with those sentiments as their 
unhappy author he would spend his whole life in the paroxysm 



J. H. Carlisle 13 

of a long, unquiet, fitful fever, he would bear with stoic pride the 
ills of life which were inevitable, but every blow of chastisement 
that he received would only exasperate him and lead him with 
daring presumption to look up and demand the reason why the 
blow was given. This disposition, morbid, peevish and restless, 
may be read at a glance even in the style of his poetry. To say 
nothing of those parts where he raves with all the incoherence 
of a tortured Sibyl, even in the more sober dreams of his imagina- 
tion a wildness which tells plainly that the heart must have been 
fearfully diseased. Light, shade and shadow are mingled together 
in everlasting and bewildering confusion. His characters appear, 
act their part, and vanish like shadows. Creatures, which seem 
to partake something of the nature of both heaven and earth, yet 
belong to neither, are passing about on mysterious errands. The 
illusion vanishes and we are left oppressed with a vague concep- 
tion of a vision, gorgeous and splendid, it is true, but vague, indis- 
tinct and baffling every attempt to analyze or comprehend it. This 
description, of course, applies not to all of his poetry. That he 
had within him much of the true poetic spirit we cannot deny. 
But does this render his doctrine the less dangerous? For 
example, he taught that infamous doctrine which abolishes the 
family, teaching men utterly to disregard, or at best but lightly 
esteem, that sacred institution which to us is the source of all 
that dignifies, adorns or embellishes life. Now, if he hurled this 
shaft against the purity and peace of society it will console us 
but little to learn that he threw it skilfully or even that the shaft 
was wreathed with flowers. He seemed to think that man by 
nature was pure and self-sufficient, by some means misery and 
confusion had been introduced in the world, but he still hoped 
that by some mysterious agency, of which he can give no rational 
account, human nature would again throw off its shackles and 
revel in all its primal glories. He acknowledged no superior 
being but love^ some pervading spirit of good, to this abstraction 
he bowed with reverence and offered up heathen adoration. Over 
this cold and cheerless system he threw the charm of poetry, he 
robed his idol in rich apparel to charm its deluded worshippers. 



14 Addresses 

Now, admitting for a moment (what it would be most difficult 
to prove) that these reveries are harmless, that men in our day 
may entertain them and be guiltless, still we cannot see of what 
service they can be in reforming the world. Do they dignify or 
ennoble human nature or better fit it to bear the burdens, share 
the conflicts or perform the duties of life ? Had man nothing to 
do on earth, to bear or to suffer such dreams might be cherished, 
but our lots have not been cast in Arcadia. Here, we think, was 
Shelly's error. He looked upon the world only with a poet's eye. 
Nor is he alone in this. Alas! for the world we have had too 
many such reformers as Shelly. Too many have indulged in 
romantic dreams about the world and felt themselves at liberty 
to frame their own hypothasis concerning it and its destiny, its 
defects and their remedies. Too many have taken upon them- 
selves the task of reforming the world, "purging it from every 
bond and stain." But how many of them have sadly failed in 
putting into practice their beautiful theories. They have often 
found new but sublime material to experiment on, and have been 
left to mourn that men will still continue to be men, to lament 
that the world will not lie passive in their hands and let them 
fashion it anew. 

The countless theories which have been given to mankind have 
each its own peculiarities, but all perhaps have general points of 
agreement. They have all been founded on false views of man's 
nature and destiny, they have all been planned in great presump- 
tion, most of them are pernicious, all of them are useless. Adven- 
turous architects have planned edifices which they declare will 
offer a safe retreat from all the beating storms to which we are 
now exposed, but they have placed them on an eminence inacces- 
sible to man, and there they still remain with all their outward 
magnificence and beauty, but within cheerless, desolate and unin- 
habited. 

With the private character of Shelly we have nothing to do. 
His writings he has given to mankind, they are in the world for 
weal or woe. Some are disposed to view them as a precious inher- 
itance from a deeply injured man who "loved the world that 



J. H. Carlisle 15 

hated him" and labored for its good; others, however, are dis- 
posed to withhold from him the glorious title of the "world's 
reformer or benefactor," for they cannot say of him, what may 
be said of the true reformer, At his death, he left the world some 
better than he found it. 



16 Addresses 



DANGERS OF A STUDENT'S LIFE. 

Address Made at the Academy of Cokesbury, S- C, July, 1854. 

Labor is the destiny of man. This great institution of Prov- 
idence hangs like a cloud over the whole human family. Though 
doubtless a blessing to man in his present condition, yet it is often 
a burden that bears upon him with crushing weight. It seems a 
painful allotment when the whole of every day is given to toil. 
He is surely to be pitied who rushes immediately from his couch 
to his labor, with no time to collect his mind or store it with 
precious thoughts which serve to cheat the day of some of its 
sultriness, no hour to spend with his little household or even to 
receive the morning salutation of his children. That, then, must 
be a severe destiny where the whole of life's short day is spent in 
wasting bodily toil. We pity the man who had to leave his 
childish toys before nature was tired of them and take up the 
burden which is to be the companion of his life. We know that 
some of the best men of our race have been nurtured in just such 
scenes as this, but they surely have a better lot who are permitted 
to glide gently into the cares of manhood, and in the full maturity 
of strength enter the field of the world and take their place among 
the reapers. That this is not a merely sentimental feeling, but 
one arising from the best sources of our nature is proved from 
the fact that in all Christian countries those who are able shelter 
the young and prepare them for the duties and discipline of life. 
It is kind, it is wise in the generation of men to say to the gen- 
eration of children pressing forward into life with eagerness and 
curiosity. "Stand back, retire to yourselves, both body and mind 
need much preparation." And many an anxious laborer turns in 
thought to institutions like this and revolves such questions as 
these: "What are they doing? Do they know the preparation 
should be real and thorough? When the signal is given and, 
clothed in all the immunities of manhood, they rush into the 
field where we have wasted our strength will they come as idlers 



J. H. Carlisle 17 

to loiter or as fiends to ravage? Will they prize and perpetuate 
the good we have accomplished or, in the first hour of their new- 
found liberty, will they trample on all we have been toiling to 
secure?" There may be some to whom these questions have no 
meaning or interest, but there are many of the best and wisest of 
our race who revolve them with ceaseless anxiety. The number 
of these men was never greater than now. Never before, my 
young friends, did the heart of Christendom throb with more 
painful solicitation for you than now. Never did the thought 
that institutions of our country where the young assemble have 
precious things in keeping come home with more reality and 
power to hearts of the people. 

Greeting you with pleasure, my young friends, as a part of the 
great brotherhood of American students, I invite you to spend 
the hour, over which you have kindly given me control, in reflect- 
ing on some of the dangers of the student's life. The situation of 
a student is a very peculiar one. He is removed from the 
restraints of childhood, yet not fully admitted into the entire 
freedom of manhood. His duties are regularly assigned and 
made obligatory upon him and yet within this is a margin wide 
enough to show what spirit governs him since he must be left 
more to his own conscience and sense of propriety than when at 
home or at the primary school. He has passed the stage of life 
in which he was considered only as one of a family and must now 
form a character as an individual. He has assumed part of his 
own destiny and is hastening to gather up the rest. He is 
escaping from the dominion of You Must and is gradually coming 
under control of You Ought. The community in which he lives, 
too, is peculiar. It is composed of those of the same age and 
engage in the same pursuits. The intercourse of those who com- 
pose it is one of affection and sentiment, not of interest. No 
business transactions are rendered necessary to tempt or distract or 
corrupt them. What a precious opportunity to encourage feelings 
of kindness, generosity, justice and truth, before they are called 
on to come in contact with the prosaic side of human nature, 



"To mingle in the low vain strife, 
That makes men mad." 



2— C. A. 



18 Addresses 

But we propose to speak not of the pleasures or advantages, 
but of the dangers of a student's life. The student is in danger 
of adopting wrong standards of duty. That is a singular pecu- 
larity of our nature which leads us to pay such deference to the 
opinion of others. Is this intended as nature's protest against an 
opinion of our own self-sufficiency ? Is it our weak, fallen nature, 
instinctively throwing out its tendrils for something on which to 
lay hold? Is it intended as a check to that selfishness which 
would lead us to go on our path regardless of our brother, his 
opinion or his rights ? The fact at least is certain that man loves 
to have his opinions or his acts endorsed by others. We do not 
propose to discuss this peculiarity of human nature; but merely 
to notice rapidly some of its effects on students. Let us state a 
very singular, but very well known fact which will bring us 
immediately to what we have to say. Many a man will contribute 
his share as one in a crowd to do that which he would tremble 
to think of doing alone. A crowd has frequently done an act 
of which every individual in the crowd disapproved. Why is 
this ? Is any crime, murder, for instance, a mathematical quantity 
which can be divided and subdivided until each part is inappre- 
ciably small? Yes; it may in the public mind or public con- 
science, but it is not in the eye of reason or truth, 'tis not so above. 
It is not onl}^ false, it is absurd, to speak of a man as guilty of 
one-half or one-tenth or one-hundredth part of a crime. If you 
can suppose one human being, when innocent, to be deprived of 
life by a combination to which every dweller on earth had given 
his consent, then would every living man on our populous globe, 
every one of its 1,000,000,000 of inhabitants bear on his conscience 
in all its entireness and in all its enormity the awful sin of mur- 
der. Young men should be careful to fix in their minds the 
truth, that character is a personal, individual matter in its nature 
as well as in its punishment or reward. If a man had to say with 
regard to any act, "I did it," it would be with paleness or con- 
fusion of face. But let him say with regard to that same act, 
"We did it," and he will roll it thoughtlessly from his lips, not 
only without shame, but with exultation or pride. Young men 



J. H. Carlisle 19 

should remember that conscience in all its vocabulary has no such 
word as we. It deals not in that broad, comprehensive, vague, 
intangible word, but uses only the solemn personal, inalienable, 
incommunicable I. Students are in greater danger here than 
almost anywhere else. I have seen a young man who, left to 
himself, would attend with usual industry to the duties imposed 
by the institution, to which he had gone for improvement. Sur- 
rounded by a crowd, I have heard him make sport of all the 
demands of duty and claim credit even for evading the very 
duties he had gone there to perform. I have seen a young man 
who, left to himself, could observe as a gentleman should all the 
proprieties of life on the highway as well as in the drawing room. 
Surrounded with a crowd, I have have detected his voice when he 
was filling all the streets and the ears of modesty with his bois- 
terous and vulgar merriment. I have seen a young man who, left 
to himself, could enter the sanctuary on a holy day and put on 
the externals of a worshipper. Surrounded with a crowd, I have 
heard him indulge his ill-timed mirth and disregard every feeling 
of sacredness and solemnity. He forgot the truth, which even 
poor Bums, though not a very strict moralist, could teach him, 
in those lines which every one knows but many, many young men 
forget, "An atheist laugh is a poor exchange for Deity offended." 
I know no rule of conduct for a student, next to those which are 
specifically religious, more important than this, regarding the 
blinding, bewildering, fascinating influence of crowds. Crowds 
never blush. Crowds never think. Young man, beware of 
crowds. 

An eminent writer on education has noticed the singular fact 
that public opinion in colleges and schools frequently excuses 
gross neglect of the very duties which are the sole object of their 
association. Among soldiers, voluntary and habitual awkward- 
ness or inexperience and neglect of duty will not secure the 
respect of either officers or men. It is so, too, in almost every 
other pursuit in life. But in our institutions of learning public 
opinion justifies and will excuse gross and habitual negligence. 
Not only does this influence affect their estimate of their own 



\ 



20 Addresses 

special duties, but students sometimes think their conventional 
rules can suspend or override the rules of propriety or even of 
morality. It is through deference to this feeling, that every 
student is expected to have on hand a constant supply of heroic 
adventures, hairbreadth escapes, frolics ('tis a name that palliates 
deeds of folly and of shame) and romantic achievements. It is 
surely not worth while to express in words the truth that this is 
not worth the ambition of a noble-minded young man. I pity 
the student who has no other reminiscences of an academic or 
college life than these. He is a melancholy proof that even educa- 
tion, with all its boasted powers, sometimes fails to correct the 
principles and elevate the tastes of a young man. I would ask 
you to call up the picture of a young man who has avoided this 
fatal and common error. Do you fancy him as peevishly shun- 
ning all company and straying by himself in joyless solitude? 
You are mistaken. Think of him as one in a merry band. There 
is not a step more elastic than his in all the throng. There is not 
an eye more clear to drink in the landscapes that fill all the 
horizon of a virtuous young man. The difference between him 
and the crowd becomes apparent only when they approach the 
line where right shades into wrong. There he stops and the 
stamp of his foot, as he takes his stand, is a signal to them all. 
They know what it means. Or they soon will know. They soon 
will know that they may as well ask the line of right and wrong 
to move out of his way, as ask him to move over it. Who can 
forbear to envy the feelings of such a man, when he stands on 
the threshold of life. He has written his name upon the mem- 
ories of his instructors and associates. Whenever they read of 
nobleness of soul or generosity or invincible integrity of heart or 
life he will return to their memories as the embodiment of all 
these. Even those, who once ridiculed his preciseness feel bound 
to vindicate the excellence of his character, and pay to him the 
tribute which weakness of character must pay to virtue. They 
will be as much surprised to hear of him as a careless, inefficient 
man in any station to which society may call him, as to hear of 
his becoming a highway robber. If the State could be embodied 



J. H. Carlisle 21 

as poets and orators love to represent it, imagine such a young 
man approaching to ask permission to enroll himself as one of 
her sons. Receive me into your service. I bring no treasure in 
my hand. Not a foot of all your wide territory is mine. A 
small, but I hope well used, library and a scanty wardrobe are all 
the treasures I can bring. I had a small patrimony, but I spent 
it. Frown not, venerable Mother, I spent it not in indolence or 
reveling. But I have turned it, houses and lands and gold and 
silver, into the knowledge and virtue and truth. It was, we 
suppose, to such a man as this that Dr. Arnold referred when, 
pointing to a boy, he said to a friend by his side : "I could stand 
hat in hand to that young man." He has turned away from the 
vanities and trifles which ensnare so many, has arisen up to some 
exalted conception of the worth of life and, filled with the high 
and lofty impulse of virtue, has adopted the magnificent apos- 
trophe of Wordsworth to Duty. 

"To humbler functions, awful Power ! 
I call thee: I myself commend 
Unto thy guidance from this hour ; 
Oh, let my weakness have an end ! 
Give unto me, made lowly wise, 
The spirit of self-sacrifice; 
The confidence of reason give; 
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live." 

Can you turn aside from the contemplation of a scene like 
this to its contrast; a young man who has lived without rule, 
or what amounts to the same thing, has lived to please those 
around him? What are his thoughts when he stands on the 
threshold of life? I am entering into life; what life is, I do 
not know. What life is worth, I have not inquired. AVhat life 
is worth I have not computed. I only know that some of the 
restraints which have hitherto pressed me are suddenly removed. 
I am entering into life. Woe to society if it entrusts any of its 
valuables to that young man. It would be easy to show that 
the rules of duty, as imposed by conscience, when compared 
with those imposed by a crowd, are clearer, have better sanctions 



22 Addresses 

and are more consistent with our nature. I will, however, for one 
moment, show you their superiority in one single respect. They 
are unchangeable. I do not mean they will serve the students on 
the Thames as well as those on the Mississippi or Saluda, though 
this is true. Neither do I mean they will serve the next genera- 
tion of students as well as this, though this is true. But the 
young man who adopts them will never have to change his rule 
of life. He may, and certainly he will, see every day new mean- 
ings and new applications of this rule, but he will never be 
ashamed of having followed the dictates of an enlightened sense 
of duty. Can yoii say this in favor of any other rule? It may 
not be in immediate relation to our subject, but we will not for- 
bear a remark or two. This insatiate desire of applause from the 
crowd is not confined to colleges or schools. It is the most 
striking peculiarity of our age and country. It seems to one who 
is no politician that this question, "What do the people like?" is 
oftener revolved in the minds of our public men than this other, 
though a far nobler one, "What do the people need?" You have 
been, perhaps, at some excited meeting, where music and excite- 
ment had tuned in harmony the feelings of all, and witty and 
brilliant sayings became the order of the evening, and it was 
expected that every speech must be followed by instant applause, 
as punctually as the flash of the lightning is followed by the roar 
of the thunder. This is scarcely an exaggerated likeness of the 
times in which we live. What boisterous and vociferous declama- 
tion on the rights of the people. I think the change would not 
only be agreeable, but profitable, if we could have some instruc- 
tion on the duties of the people. Human life is not made up of 
rights. It involves duties, too. 

I know I am not wandering from the subject before us, and I 
hope it is not venturing beyond the proprieties of an occasion 
like this, to disclose to you the melantholy truth, the demagogue 
is abroad in the land. I tremble for this nation if the thousands 
who crowd her schools and colleges shall rush in her high places 
with habits formed to catch each passing breeze of popular favor. 
I fear that, much as we idolize Washington on holidays, we have 



J. H. Carlisle 23 

forgotten some of the most instructive pages in his life. The 
spectacle of the old hero victorious over all his foes, victorious 
even over himself, is so new, so inspiring, that we forget the 
youthful hero putting it on. Will the young men at least remem- 
ber that as Washington did not live for applause, so he did not 
always secure it. On more than one important occasion he was 
left without it. We do not like the superficial way of accounting 
for, and disposing of, these passages in his life. It is frequently 
said they were but slanders and will soon be forgotten. I hope 
not. I would have these slanders immortal as his fame. If they 
were engraved on a marble and placed in the monument which 
the nation is now building to his memory, it would be the most 
instructive block in all that beautiful collection. It would be 
doing a service to this excited age if it could be brought to gather 
up the wisdom that is treasured up in his life. To turn from 
some of our great names to his is like escaping from one of 
our mountain streams that fills all the grove with its bubbling 
to some sea, beautifully clear yet unfathomably calm. Instant 
applause does not always follow duty. The path of duty, though 
sometimes smooth, and oftentimes steep, is always straight. 
Popular applause is a capricious little stream, sometimes mur- 
muring sweetest music by its side and again darting abruptly off 
while the deceived and saddened traveler hears the melody of its 
waters dying away in the distance and is left to toil on his weary 
path with all silence to the ear and it may be all darkness to 
the eye. 

It is perhaps not a new thought, but rather a division of the 
one we have been considering, to add the student is in danger of 
adopting wrong notions of dignity and independence of char- 
acter. He is in danger of thinking all subjection to be degrading. 
He confounds independence with freedom from all restraint. 
This is but the origin, or it may be the result, of the loose views 
floating abroad in the popular mind, even in our favored country, 
with regard to liberty. How often is liberty confounded with 
lawlessness. This is to confound truth w^ith falsehood, light 
with darkness. This feeling often finds outlet in some such 



24 Addresses 

expression as this, "This is a country where every man can do as 
he pleases." A very great mistake. Ask the intelligent patriot 
why he pours forth his exulting song of thanksgiving, when he 
looks out upon his inheritance? It is because he feels the gentle 
pressure of this gi*eat country's hand upon his head and hears 
it say to all the twenty millions of its sons, "Do him no harm. 
Let his life, his reputation and his character be sacred in thy 
sight. A wrong done to him, in any of these respects, I will 
resent as a wrong done to me." 

Lawlessness is not the safe or normal condition of man. Look 
at nature. Ask even dumb, inanimate nature. There are some 
questions which she knows not how to answer. Her oracles are 
dumb. There are others on which she speaks with no uncertain 
sound. What is all philosophy, all science, but a synopsis of the 
laws of nature? One of our own countrymen, at this moment, is 
engaged in studying with signal success and honor the laws that 
govern the winds that for ages have afforded proverbs of capri- 
ciousness and change. Science never had a bolder wing or keener 
eye than now. The astronomer of today sees worlds where the 
astronomer of yesterday saw only a thin vapor floating on the 
remotest edge of night. But never yet has the telescope brought 
tidings of one lawless world. The chemist has agents and appa- 
ratus of analysis unequaled before. He can put matter of almost 
any form in his crucible and divide it until the particles shall 
vanish and escape detection by the human eye, but never yet has 
the microscope of a chemist fallen on one lawless atom of matter. 
Will He, then, who binds by a sure law every leaf in the forests 
of the earth, every drop of water in the Pacific and every grain 
of sand in the Sahara, will He form a being that can act, stamp 
it with some resemblance to himself and speak to it those thrilling 
words, "Think and live forever," and then throw it from him 
and leave it to find perfection and happiness in wandering an 
unclaimed, unacknowledged vagrant? 

Look around you, it is just as surely the will of the Creator 
that men should live together as that they should live at all. 
They cannot live together without order and law. The argument 



J. H. Carlisle 25 

is short but convincing. You cannot point to a single combina- 
tion of human beings, from the largest empire to the smallest 
family, which does not attest the importance of law and order. 
Those who deny the authority or existence of the great Lawgiver 
still feel the want of laws among themselves. Those who throw 
off all laws, human and divine, must have laws, so they may act 
in concert against them. Two thieves who take the highway and 
turn their hand in violence against their fellows must have laws 
between themselves or they cannot work together. The man, 
whether young or old, who does not know that subjection to a 
great rule is his highest glory and obedience to right authority 
his true safety and most precious liberty, is ignorant of a most 
important truth. 

Did you ever bring distinctly before your mind the thought, 
"How do we differ from the brutes in our yards?" It is not in 
the power of thought, though, that does place an impassable gulf 
between them and us. It is that we can do wrong or right and 
they can do neither. These awful words have no meaning when 
applied to them. It is neither right nor wrong in a dog to bark, 
or a serpent to bite any more than it is for a leaf to fall, or water 
to freeze. The student who recognizes nothing higher than 
college laws takes very defective views of his condition and duty. 
The student who thinks anything not positively forbidden by 
the laws of the institution is right, the student who is continually 
pressing against the barriers of just restraint is to be pitied. If 
an animal in your yard finds his wanderings checked by a wall, 
he first measures it with his eye to see if he can clear it, then 
walks to and fro around it to find a weak place or an opening. 
This may do for a beast. It should not be so with a man. The 
most powerful restraints should be within a man. He who is 
kept in the right path only by rigid rules planted all along is 
certainly very low in the scale of moral beings. These truths the 
student may forget. In his escape from the strict and sensible 
confinement of home and early childhood, he may indulge visions, 
that can scarcely be called thoughts, which are not only improper 
for a student, but would be so for a human being in any part of 
his career. 



26 Addresses 

There are first the laws of duty in the highest sense, the deep 
and high and unchanging rules of morality, which man did not 
make and cannot alter. Special duties belong to special relations 
or positions in life, these belong to all men as men. They are 
above us wherever we go just as, wherever we travel over the 
variegated surface of the earth, though climate, scenes and land- 
scapes vary, the same tranquil heavens shine above us. 

The day after a student leaves an institution like this he will 
not be obliged to attend to the specific duties he does now, he will 
not be compelled, at the striking of a certain hour, to take up a 
certain study. He can omit these duties without blame, he must 
still obey, just as before, the immutable laws of wrong and right. 
Your instructors suspend for a few days the usual exercises of 
this institution; then you are not compelled to obey the specific 
duties of a student. The laws I am referring to give no vacation. 
The duties allow no holiday. Your instructors cannot suspend 
them, they must obey. Why should a student be exempt from 
obedience to these laws? I have already said that sometimes 
conventional rules of colleges are supposed to suspend them. It 
is a poor illustration here to say that your conventional rules 
have no more right to release you from these than the rules of 
your debating society can release you from obedience to the con- 
stitution of your State. To say that no crisis in academic or 
college life can make it right for you to disobey these laws, is only 
saying that it is never right to do wrong. 

Take another code of laws, those which belong to our station 
in life. A student has, by the very act of becoming a student, 
assumed obligations to do certain duties. Will he, a student, try 
to evade those very duties, which characterize and constitute him 
a student? Imagine a young man expressing this in words, "I 
am a student, and yet I habitually and intentionally neglect some 
or all of the duties appropriate to that name." 

Richard Cecil, as we learn from his life, had a singular custom. 
He had a shelf on his library for tried authors. He also said he 
had a shelf in his mind for tried principles. If after discussing 
some principle or rule of life and conduct, he found it based on 



J. H. Carlisle 27 

high and inviolable moral grounds, he laid it on the shelf. He 
took it for granted in all subsequent discussions. Students 
frequently err with respect to the code of duties, we are now dis- 
cussing, by having nothing laid on the shelf. I have seen some 
students, young men of good and noble impulses, who never seem 
to have reached the point where they could say, "My duties as a 
student must be performed." They wake up every morning with 
this an open question. The ringing of the bell was to them a 
summons, not to enter upon the appropriate duty, but to enter 
upon the discussion of the question, "Shall this duty be per- 
formed?" If a young man will only call reason and conscience to 
a council, settle this matter solemnly and irrevocably, so that this 
conviction will rush upon him with the rapidity of an instinct 
and the force of a habit, he will find in it a force, a momentum 
to which he has been a stranger. It will cut, as with a scythe, all 
the thousand little questions of expediency, fashion or habit that 
grow so thickly all along a student's path. Along with these 
would it could forever do away with that feeling, which is so 
fruitful a source of evil habits in primary schools and which has 
even found its way into colleges, a feeling of antagonism to the 
authorities and a disposition to put down as clear gain every- 
thing which can by dexterous management be saved from their 
exaction. The common saying, that trifles give rise to important 
results, nowhere finds more striking proofs than in the records of 
schools and colleges. Trifles have ruined classes, generations of 
students and institutions. Trifles have deprived many a man of 
the privileges of an education. A few years ago, in one of our 
colleges, an interruption had occurred between the students of a 
class and a professor. It was one of those which a little good 
sense could easily have remedied. A class meeting was called. 
A member, by no means a leading one in talents or influence, rose 
and said, "Other classes have had their rebellions. I move we 
get up a rebellion." A rebellion was gotten up. 

The student who practices his ingenuity in evading the whole- 
some restraints of his education will in all probability make a 
dangerous citizen. Take the reports of Horace Mann or any 



28 Addresses 

other writer on education whose observations were directed to 
the schools fifteen or twenty years ago. You will be surprised to 
see how frequently and earnestly they call attention to the insub- 
ordination of students. Shut now the volume and take up a 
newspaper of the present day and see the comment. There is 
scarcely a large city in which any popular ring-leader cannot 
summon a mob before which human property and human life are 
defenceless things. Is there any connection between these two 
facts ? I believe there is. Because the habits of misrule and law- 
lessness you encourage in each other as boys will turn and rend 
you as men. 

Look again at another, and the only remaining, code of duties. 
I mean those of gentlemanly propriety. Those laws which are 
often and very happily called the minor morals, the observance 
of which enables a man to turn gracefully the angular points of 
life. Where is the student who would dare to put in words this 
thought: "I wish the laws requiring gentlemanly kindness and 
courtesy did not bear so heavily upon me, or that I could be 
excused from observing them?" I do not say that students are 
noted for violating these rules, it is enough for me to say that 
they are in especial danger of violating them. The fellow-feeling 
existing in our colleges is so vivid that it is very apt to beget a 
carelessness in this respect. It is as if the strength of a hundred 
arms were suddenly centered in one. You can imagine the exciting, 
exhilarating effect this would produce. This change has proved 
too sudden for the sobriety and magnanimity of some excel- 
lent young men whom I have known. I have seen a modest and 
cautious young man almost instantly assume on entering a college 
or a large boarding school a careless and bantering mood which, 
without doing much violence to the original, might be trans- 
lated in some such language as this, "If any man will begin a 
quarrel with me I will be much obliged to him; if not I must 
begin one with him." Have you ever thought of the mortifying 
and serious fact, that scarcely a year passes without serious col- 
lisions between students and citizens? Within the last few 
months I believe four or five have occurred in more than one of 



J. H. Carlisle 29 

which blood was shed. There is another, which should suggest 
very serious reflections to us all. What is the history of American 
schools and colleges? Briefly this: When first it is proposed to 
locate one, many neighborhoods contend for the honor of receiv- 
ing it, having, it may be, some vague extravagant expectation of 
good to result from its presence. Scarcely has the fortunate 
locality recovered from its exultation before some interruption 
occurs in the intercourse between the students and their neighbors, 
retaliation and exaggerations follow until the opinion enter- 
tained, and not unfrequently expressed, is simply this : "The insti- 
tution is a nuisance both social and moral, but as it is profitable 
to the trade of our community it is well for us to tolerate and 
even to support it." Has it come to this? Are the ten thousand 
institutions, that so beautifully bestud our large empire valued 
only or chiefly because each one sets in motion a little current 
of trade which otherwise would not flow ? My friends, these are 
but the meanest blessings which the genius of education shakes 
from her wings as she lights in your midst to dispense her richer 
and priceless gifts. These are but the crumbs that fall from her 
table when the liberality of the State, or a portion of the people, 
spreads it in your midst and invites your children to the banquet. 
American students must not be content to endure this state of 
things. This must be wiped away. If these prejudices are unjust, 
as in many cases I know they are, it will be the nobler task to 
outlive them. The students who will make their institution a 
welcome addition to their community, not simply because they 
improve its trade, but ,because they go in and out before that 
community, models of all that is pure in morals and blameless in 
manner, will have served their country. To be a member of that 
generation of students will be an honor which the noblest among 
you might covet and wear as a crown through life. "I would 
rather shake a prejudice than build a pyramid," said an Irish 
orator. I propose this prejudice to American students as some- 
thing for them to remove. 

The- student is in danger of forgetting the power of habit over 
himself. You are aware that most men fail rather in practice 



30 Addresses 

than in theory. There are not many men who have not before 
them a picture of a character which they intend some day to 
equal or surpass. But, dupe of tomorrow even from a child, the 
spot on which he intends to take his stand and meet the foe, in a 
decisive strife, is always just a little before. "There, when I 
gain that point I will be and do better. I will form better habits." 
And may I ask, what are you doing now? Are you waiting? 
No, you cannot do this. Make out a list of all the virtues which 
you intend to possess. Begin with truth and justice and go on 
through the long bright catalogue. You say you intend to form 
these habits. I say you are forming them now, or you are form- 
ing just their opposite. If some student could be induced to put 
in words these thoughts, would it not be something like this? 
"I intend, when a man, to associate with the good and wise, hence, 
and to prepare me for that, I mingle freely with men of a very 
different kind. I intend, when a man, to uphold the peace and 
purity of society, to obey every just demand made on me by my 
fellows. Hence I love now to embarrass and annoy those who 
have control over me. I intend, when a man, to make conscience 
and judgment the guide of life, hence I seldom consult them now 
but let inclination lead me on." Character is only a short expres- 
sion to indicate the sum of all the habits of a man, physical, 
intellectual and moral. And these habits are forming every day. 
You can waste time or you can improve time, but you cannot 
keep time from speeding on, so you can give the influences that 
fall upon you a right or wrong direction, but you cannot keep 
them from having their effect on you. Everything deepens and 
strengthens the main purpose of life, whether that purpose be a 
trifling or a noble one. This explains what, at first view, seems a 
mystery. One student may, by a happy alchemy, turn to gold 
everything around him, he learns something from every one of 
his associates, so that in his character you might see in beautiful 
relief a copy of every virtue, every nobleness exhibited in all the 
company of his associates. And by his side, on the recitation 
bench, there may be another student who will pass through the 
same scenes, mingle with the same associates, be subjected to the 



J. H. Carlisle 31 

same external influences and merge from that crowd a walking 
epitome of all the vices and weaknesses with which he has ever 
come in contact. Such is life. Such is a student's life. How 
strangely complicated is the web of character we weave, and every 
act we perform, every word we speak, every passion or influence 
we indulge, every motive we obey, everything we meet that draws 
forth our love, or hatred, or that stirs, even to a ripple, the surface 
of our mysterious nature, adds a thread. Everything contributes 
to your education. The long silent struggle with your lesson, the 
collision of mind with mind in the recitation room, the animated, 
yet kind debate, in the society, the exuberant outburst of mirth 
when a class is dismissed, or a holiday announced, or enjoyed, 
the more quiet and yet, I think, more satisfying walk with a 
friend, the long night watch with a sick classmate, the letter or 
present from home, the night with solemn stillness, the day with 
its bustle and noise, company and solitude, man and nature, all 
contribute to educate you. Wlien you know that some influences 
must affect your character, even your destiny, will you not make a 
selection, or will you thoughtlessly rush along them and let them 
give you an impulse, upward or downward, either to glory or to 
shame? The bands of steel are growing around you every hour 
and if you think you can, at a moment's warning, spring to your 
feet and shake them from you, you have not studied sufficiently 
the laws of your own Avonderful being. You cannot lay aside the 
habits of your academic or college life as you would your student 
uniform or books. ^Vliat a melancholy spectacle to see a young 
man awaking up to the claims that are on an intellectual and 
moral being after he has passed through his education. The 
beneficence of Providence, the kindness of friends conspired to 
place him in circumstances where he might enter life with advan- 
tage, he enters with terrible disadvantages. Those things which 
should have been as wings to him, are as weights bearing him 
down to the earth. His passions, accustomed to indulgence, 
pursue him mercilessly when he would gladly escape their reach.' 
He summons up all of lofty and indignant rebuke he can com- 
mand, and says to them Away! Leave me alone! I never 



32 Addresses 

dreamed of making you the companions of my life. Away ! 
Will they away at his bidding? I know of only one spectacle 
more melancholy in all the walks of men, than to see a young man 
thus trying to shake off the evil habits of a thoughtless student 
life, and this is to see a young man not trying to shake them off. 
It is a fearful risk, at any stage of life, for conscience to be away 
or negligent, it is especially so in youth. When the passions are 
taking the direction they will probably keep through life (and 
this probability increases every hour) , when character which has 
hitherto been a shapeless mass, is assuming fixed and rigid forms, 
when it is just passing from fluid into the solid state, these mighty 
transformations should not be suffered to take place and con- 
science absent and asleep. A late writer has expressed some 
thoughts on the subject so forcibly that you will excuse a quota- 
tion : 

"I have a wondrous house to build, 
A dwelling humble, yet divine; 
A lowly cottage to be filled 

With all the jewels of the mine. 
How shall I build it strong and fair? 
This noble house, this dwelling rare; 
So small and modest, yet so great, 
How shall I fill its chambers bare 
With use, with ornament, with state? 

"My God hath given the stone and clay, 

'Tis I must fashion them aright ; 
'Tis I must mould them, day by day, 

And make my labor my delight. 
This cot, this palace, this fair home, 
This pleasure home, this holy dome. 

Must be in all proportions fit. 
That heavenly messengers may come 

And lodge with him who tenants it. 

"No fairy bower this house must be. 

To totter at each gale that starts; 
But of substantial masonry. 

Symmetrical in all its parts. 
Fit in its strength to stand sublime 
For seventy years of mortal time; 

Defiant of the sun and rain. 

And well attempered to the strain 

In every cranny, nook and pane. 



J. H. Carlisle 33 

"I'll build so that if the blast 

Around it whistle loud and long, 
The tempest, when its rage hath passed, 

Shall leave its rafters doubly strong. 
I'll build it so that travelers by 
Shall view it with admiring eye 

For its commodiousness and grace, 
From on the ground straight to the sliy 

A meek, but goodly dwelling-place." 

The student is in danger of forgetting the influence he exerts 
over others. A single illustration will bring this thought fully 
before us. Let us suppose two young men to meet as fellow 
students, one of whom is reverent in his language, the other 
profane. This specific vice is selected, not only because it well 
illustrates the power of mutual influence, but to draw special 
attention to it as one of the dangers to which young men are 
exposed. Because of swearing our land mourneth. I^et these 
two young men begin their duties in the interesting relation of 
fellow students on Monday morning, and before Friday evening 
shall come to close the labors of the first week, a change will have 
passed over the moral character of both. It may be as silent, but 
it will be as sure as the beating of their pulses, it may be as 
imperceptible, but it will be as ceaseless as the coursing of the 
blood in their veins. The victim of this vice must become con- 
firmed in this vice, or shaken from it in some degree. He must 
be awed by the power of virtue or he will become more virulent 
and gross in his attack on virtue. The other, too, undergoes a 
change. He may receive new and increased hatred and disgust 
at this unnatural sin, or he may on Tuesday be less shocked than 
on Monday, the next day he may begin to tolerate it, the next to 
hear it with indifference, the next to relish it in others and the 
next to imitate it himself, and the result is, before he has had 
time to learn a lesson of useful knowledge from his instructors, 
he has learned a lesson of vice from his associates, the result is, 
and this is a result I fear not uncommon in our public schools 
and colleges, that the name "at which all tremble in all worlds 
except our own" is taken thoughtlessly and profanely upon lips 
yet warm with a mother's parting kiss. Will not a student be 

3— c. A. 



34 Addresses 

awed into thoughtfulness by the reflection, that of every vice and 
foible in his character, an indefinite number of copies may be 
taken. Does the thought never rush with appalling force upon 
his mind, "It may be hereafter, I shall meet some school acquaint- 
ance writhing in the coils of a habit which I created or indulged. 
He may show me the incurable wound in his heart or mind and 
say, this is a memento of my association with you." Remember, 
character is only a name for habits. Remember habits are created 
by repetition of single acts. There is one act in the series which 
fixes the habit, one rivet which secures the chain. Where that 
act is you do not know, if so, you might indulge with some 
impunity this side of that act. The oath you take, or encourage 
him to take, may be the one that was wanting to fasten upon him 
the habit of profanity and make him a blasphemer through life. 
The licentious conversation you indulge in with him, the impure 
jest which you relish may fix upon him the sorest burden that a 
human being can bear through life, a guilty conscience alone 
excepted. I mean a polluted imagination. The scene of dissipa- 
tion, to which you invite him, may seal him up to a drunkard's 
fate. He may leave the room of mirth and revelling, around 
which your companionship has thrown a glory and a fascination, 
to reel through life and then by one frantic leap burst into the 
presence of Him who rules a kingdom of happiness and peace, 
which the drunkard shall never inherit. Your friend may be 
standing hesitating at the foot of one of those eminences which a 
young man must climb, before he can reach the broad and easy 
plain that slopes to ruin. If left to himself he will not climb it. 
Conscience will make a coward of him and, if no better motive 
come to his rescue, he may return to those who are wooing him 
back to a better fate. There he stands, poised on the very crisis 
of his destiny. Approach him, give him your arm to lean upon, 
and it will be a holiday task for him to climb that hill, by a series 
of easy bounds he can leap it and gain the plain beyond. 

This influence, great everywhere, is nowhere greater than in our 
schools and colleges. The fellow-feeling is so strong that char- 
acter is easily moulded. Will a thoughtful young man be careless 



J. H. Carlisle 35 

in this matter? Will he be reckless of the influence he exerts 
upon the institution to which he belongs? Think a moment; 
every student helps to form the character of his school, the school 
reacts upon all its members. Think of a large public school where 
generation after generation of students pass through, each one 
investing it with more venerable and virtuous associations. Think 
again of a school, if a school can exist, where generation after 
generation of students are triflers, not one leaving a name or act 
to elevate or quicken the aspirations of his successor. It's a priv- 
ilege to be a member of an old public school. It is a privilege to 
contribute that which will add to its character and associations. 
Can a man be a trifler there ? How far below the reach of manly 
impulses or generous aspirations must he be, who can pass, a 
trifler, through scenes like these. Where others have stored their 
minds with gold or precious gems, he gathers chaff. Where 
others have made themselves scholars or men, he makes himself 
an accomplished trifler. Were it not that, true to the instincts 
of an American bosom, he had carved his name in uncouth letters 
all over the premises, the next year's classes would never know 
that such a being had wasted a few precious years there. I con- 
fess, my object has been to allude to this, simply that I might 
address you in the language of congratulations and warning. The 
institution whose favor you enjoy is not of yesterday's growth. 
More generations than one have resorted here for purposes of 
instruction. I suppose every grove in this vicinity has its story 
of some young man who walked there, musing solemnly and 
thoughtfully on the aims of life. Every tree could tell its story 
of some young man who at its foot received strength to enter 
upon a life of piety and peace. It must be impossible for a young 
man to saunter lifelessly and aimlessly along the path, that once 
echoed to the manly step of Stephen Olin. I almost envy you 
young gentlemen the privilege of spending a few important and 
impressible years in a locality consecrated by some connection 
with his great name. I hope no young man will ever leave this 
institution until he has made himself familiar with his character. 
My young friends, when that hour comes upon you which comes 



36 Addresses 

upon all students, when hope seems prostrate, all your energies 
lifeless, when you feel no strength to make one effort more for 
intellectual or moral improvement, when you feel like giving over 
the struggle and floating down the current, take his life in your 
hand, go alone or with a thoughtful friend to Tabernacle. Spend 
an hour there. See how sublime a thing a human life may 
be made when it is consecrated to high and holy aims. See how 
purposes and objects and thoughts and impulses that might 
expand and elevate an angel's mind can become the familiar 
tenants of a human heart once as low and degraded as yours or 
mine, and then come back to your duties. Fresh from such an 
enterprise, you will find it easy to brush trifles and triflers from 
your path and enter upon the pursuits of true wisdom, whose 
ways, whether trod by a giant's or an infant's step, are always 
pleasantness and whose paths are always peace. 

The student is in danger of forgetting home. It is said, of one 
of the most distinguished presidents of a Northern college, that 
the first remedy he resorted to, in the case of a young man who 
he feared was falling into vicious or trifling habits, was a visit 
to his friends at home. Hard indeed is the heart which this 
would not tender. Who in the midst of such scenes does not 
resolve, "Not one of those shall ever sigh or blush for me." And 
yet the student may become so accustomed to the exciting studies 
or pleasures of a college life, that the quiet and peaceful scenes 
of home become insipid. Let him beware of this. Let him 
guard against a love of exciting and highly seasoned pleasure. 
"The lake of happiness," it has been beautifully said, "is fed by 
a thousand little streams." Affections rightly developed and 
directed constitute happiness. For this reason alone we may see 
that a student has no business with the gaming table, the drink- 
ing room or kindred pleasures. I waive the moral considerations. 
They are overpowering. I mean the student who indulges in 
them, makes not only a moral but an intellectual error, wrongs 
not only his heart and soul, but his mind. If he has not been 
laboring with his mind it is an abuse of terms to speak of recre- 
ation; if he has been laboring he needs not excitement but 



J. H. Carlisu; 37 

soothing. The lighter walks of literature, the habitations of the 
poets, the quiet scenes of domestic life all lie open. Let him 
enter and feast, and his whole nature shall be refreshed. Many 
a young man has received the best part of his education at home 
during vacation. Never forget home. Never forget those who 
make up home. Have you a mother there ? Is she at her fireside, 
and does she wait thy coming there? Does she watch thy vacant 
chair and wait that thrilling moment when he who left her 
arms a boy shall return to them a man ? I beseech thee go to her 
as pure, as innocent of vice as when you left her. Let her eyes 
follow you in all your studies, in all your recreations. Never go 
where they would weep to follow thee. Let her voice, the sweetest 
music that your childhood knew, linger in your ears and close 
them to everything they should not hear. Or is she in the church- 
yard, and does she wait thy coming there? Then, more solemnly, 
I beseech thee, go not astray, pass thoughtfully, fearfully, pray- 
erfully through the scenes of life. Keep yourself unspotted from 
the world. Suppose a mother could sift character. How long 
would her eyes linger on the outside to mark the features, on her 
son's return from college? Would they not, quicker than light, 
dart within the temple to see what changes had taken place there? 
And what a scene might meet the eye of many a mother ! How 
would she shrink back from his offered embrace and think some 
fiend had assumed his form. Suppose, once more, she could not 
only see character, but could dissect it, could separate the good 
from the bad and trace back each to its origin. How solemn the 
colloquy as she asked about the influences which had left their 
impress. I see her begin the awful scrutiny. "How comes this 
stain upon my jewel I have watched as my own life?" "A friend 
did that. He was brilliant, fascinating, plausible. I dreamed 
not of harm." "And this? Has my boy determined to test for 
himself all I have said about the mocking of wine and the raging 
of strong drink?" "It was a social hour. The light that beamed 
from the wine-cup mingled its radiance with the light that 
beamed from beauty's eye. And wealth and beauty and fashion 
offered me the glass. I yielded." "And, more painful than all, 



38 Addresses 

I see a stain in the central spot of your soul where it has been 
the labor of my life to plant one seed of immortal truth. I see 
an erasure here, where, after giving it ten thousand touches, I 
thought I could read the name of the Great Creator." "You had, 
mother, but the finger of a scoffer wiped it out." My young 
friends, is education worth this price? 

The student is in danger of forgetting the claims of his country 
and age wpon him. It seems to me that the most thoughtless 
reader of a country newspaper must have suggested to him the 
question, "What means this restlessness among the nations?" 
And the most experienced observer of the world's affairs can but 
echo it back, "Wliat means it?" Is this the unusual bustle of 
Saturday evening soon to sink into that long and peaceful sab- 
bath which our earth shall keep? Is what remains of this 
tempestuous state of human things but the working of a sea 
before a calm that rocks itself to rest ? When questions like these 
are presented, human wisdom is but ignorance. "God is his own 
interpreter, and he shall make it plain." We may venture one 
remark. Wlien these thronging revolutions shall have passed 
and men look upon them, not as they come, but as they go, it 
will be easy to him that understandeth. When they pass and are 
receding into history they will leave behind them this truth as a 
legacy to the nations : "Them that honor me I will honor." We 
believe every catastrophe in national history will find its explana- 
tion in this other truth: "It shall be well with the righteous." 
Our own country is speeding on to a destiny which shall be a 
fresh illustration of this great truth, or of the fearful warning 
contained therein. It shall not be well with the nation, the com- 
munity or the individual that doeth not the right. I have been 
struck with the fact that some of our statesmen have confessed 
that higher moral cultivation is desirable, perhaps indispensable. 
It may be these are only the commonplace tributes to Christianity 
which every man is expected to make. But I must think it means 
more. It seems to me a most significant confession. It is, as 
if they said, "Religious people of every name, ministers, mis- 
sionaries, Sunday school teachers, colporteurs, Bible and tract 



J. H. Carlisle 39 

distributors, come and help us, if you can, for we are at our wits' 
end. We thought to lead our people on to glorious destiny by 
the powers and forces of a splendid civilization. We thought 
to charm into the right by Magna Charta, the trial by jury and 
the ballot box. We never thought that human depravity would 
spoil our political schemes and theories, we thought to leave 
that for the theologians to quarrel over. We thought to control 
this mighty nation by human motives, and we have been able 
to keep up a very imperfect degree of national peace and hap- 
piness, but it cannot be done much longer. The nation is fast 
becoming unmanageable. The people in their revels are dashing 
against the barriers we reared, are shaking terribly the frame- 
work of society." I have not time, my young friends, to give 
you all the reasons, but the conviction is upon my mind, that 
the age of the world in which you will live will have no use for 
an ignorant, trifling man. It will have no post of honor to 
assign him, no laurel to bind around his brow. I present to you 
this motive as one that appeals to all that is noble and generous 
in your nature. For your country's sake, prepare yourselves to 
act the part of men. I mean not that you must waste your 
breath in holiday declamation about her glory. Of that we have 
had enough. Be the uncompromising foe to all her foes, and 
remember sin, vice and ignorance and undisciplined minds are 
her greatest foes, the only foes that cause a fear in our bosoms. 
I saw, not long since, on one sheet, the flags of all the nations of 
the earth. It was a beautiful and instructive picture. My eye 
ran restless over them all, it turned but for a moment on the 
Lion, the Crescent and the Cross, but rested with pride upon one, 
it was the flag that floats over the land of Washington. I felt 
in that hour that I loved everything that is the growth of her 
dear soil from the pine on her green mountains, the wild flower 
of her southern prarie, the rich foliage of her Pacific coast. In 
her magnificent forest there is one tree, not fairer in itself it 
may be, but fairer to our partial eye than all the rest. May 
heaven send perpetual youth, greenness and beauty on the Pal- 
metto and all its sister trees. May the sun of righteousness bathe 



40 Addresses 

it in a flood of purest light and then, whether in peaceful or 
tempestuous seasons, it "shall be as a tree planted by the rivers 
of water, it shall bring forth its fruit in its season, its leaf also 
shall not wither." 

Young Gentlemen of Erosophic Society: For the kindness 
which you have exhibited in assigning me the task I have per- 
formed, I have no other return to offer than a sincere wish that 
each one of you may safely and profitably enjoy all the pleasures 
and avoid all the dangers of a student's life. My remarks have 
been mostly of a nature to make you fearful. Let me, before I 
close, impress upon you a few truths of a different kind. One 
truth has been expressed by a favorite writer in a form which I 
hope you will find it easy to remember. James Hamilton, of 
London, says: "Crowded as the world is, there is plenty of room 
in it for first rate men." This is true. Will you test its truth? 
You hear a great deal about the professions being crowded, and 
it may be so. But I know no profession or pursuit that is 
crowded with first rate men. Be a first rate man (a Christian is 
the highest style of man), and you will be led to some spot in 
life where you can be happy and useful, and life has nothing 
better to offer. Can a young man avoid all the dangers we have 
noticed? Entering life in a country where excitement rules the 
hour and where the air is filled with voices crying lo here or lo 
there, can he find a guide? "Wlierewith shall a young man 
cleanse his way?" Young men, I will leave you with thoughts 
revolving around this mighty question and its answer. "Wliere- 
with shall a young man cleanse his way ? By taking heed thereto 
according to thy word." 

"His word is everlasting truth, 

How pure is every page. 
This holy book will guide your youth 
And well support your age." 



J. H. Carlisle 41 



AN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT WOFFORD C03IMENCEMENT, 
JUNE 27, 1855. SUBJECT: "STUDY OF MATHEMATICS." 

The same considerations which call for addresses of this kind 
indicate the nature of them, allowing very little discretion in the 
choice of topics. As circumstances do not seem to call for any- 
thing beyond a popular treatment of the subject assigned to this 
hour, nothing more than this will be attempted. Mathematical 
studies are useful and deserve a prominent place in every course 
of study for two reasons. The first is, they train the mind. If 
we begin with the humblest and yet in some sense the most 
important branch of mathematics, arithmetic, we find it well 
suited to discipline and strengthen the mind. At a very early 
age when we are unable to reason on any other subject we can 
clearly understand numbers and their combinations. We are 
met at once by a singular difference between arithmetic and 
another elementary branch, geometry. Geometry has all along 
been taught as a system of reasoning. Arithmetic has been 
broken into fragments and taught as isolated arbitary rules. The 
solution of this has been sought (and we think found) in this 
fact: We received from the ancients a system of geometry 
suited as a text-book which has kept its place in our academies 
and colleges without material alteration down to our own time. 
But the science of arithmetic found no Euclid. And unfortun- 
ately it was discovered that the results of reasoning could be 
separated from the reasoning and made comparatively useful. 
If we should abandon all rigorous system of reasoning and teach 
only the results of the propositions in geometry with the formulas 
derived from them the perversion would not be more complete 
than has taken place with regard to arithmetic. Actual results 
of this study as generally pursued furnish no index by which to 
estimate its real worth. Many a young man who has been "car- 
ried through" the arithmetic, to use a common and expressive 
phrase, when he enters the counting room finds he has all his 



42 Addresses 

arithmetic to make for himself. Perhaps the first question finds 
him unfurnished. If he had met it in its proper place in the 
book with a written label on it telling him where to strike for 
the vulnerable part he could have done it. Many a summer's 
evening it has been his task to do them by the dozen. But this 
did not come in that way. It did not savor of any rule. It did 
not have a scholastic look about it. It came not as a regular 
artificial quastion, but started up suddenly in a business walk 
a real matter of fact calculation, and the interview was an embar- 
rassing one. This does not show that arithmetic is useless, it 
only shows arithmetic was never taught. He was taught to do 
sums, a very easy and very worthless accomplishment, but never 
was taught to think. It is to be feared there are many teachers 
still who do not appreciate the instrument which arithmetic 
puts in their hand to awaken the minds of even the youngest 
students. Beginning, then, with the first efforts to reason, math- 
ematics afford admirable subjects for mental training. One 
advantage they possess is they deal for the most part with real, 
tangible things whose relations can be easily grasped. The 
language, too, is clear and intelligible. Every word has a mean- 
ing and only one meaning. Take a class of boys or young men 
yet untrained and define any abstract word, government, man, 
society, virtue, for instance, and you cannot be sure that all have 
exactly the same idea. But define and exhibit a circle or triangle 
and every one will carry away all that you mean and nothing 
that you do not mean. Mathematical reasoning is not a peculiar 
or superior kind of reasoning. It is precisely the same with that 
w^e use in ever}'- day life. Its superiority consists chiefly in this, 
the langiiage cannot be misunderstood. The entrance of a clear, 
well-defined idea into any mind is an era in its history. Can well- 
connected trains of such ideas pass through without enlarging 
and strengthening it? Again, they are suited to all grades of 
intellect, because the reasoning advances by very short and easy 
processes. There is no fer saltiim reasoning in mathematics. The 
longest and most formidable proposition in geometry can be 
broken up into axioms. Indeed, all geometry is one long chain 



J. H. Carlisle 43 

of connected axioms. He who can step from the first to the 
second, can step from that to the end, if his patience does not fail 
him. He who finishes the multiplication table has entered a path 
which stretches immeasurably in the distance. He stops at last, 
when and wherever he stops, not because he has reached an 
impassable gulf, but because the spirit of slumber has come over 
him. Many look upon the genius of mathematics as an aerial 
being, sporting in the clouds, flitting about with a rapidity which 
mocks the speed of common men. This is not so. She can reach 
the clouds, it is true, or beyond them, but it is not by flying leaps 
but by patient traveling. She will return from her wildest flight 
from weighing a planet or watching its speed, to take the 
humblest plodder by the hand. To him who seizes her with con- 
fidence she answers as did the oracle to the ardent and impetuous 
Alexander, "Son, thou art invincible. All that I have is thine." 
It needs no genius to study mathematics. We mean not only to 
obtain enough for the demands of an ordinary business life, but 
enough to achieve creditably an academic or college course. 
Pascal could grasp Avith almost equal ease difficult problems and 
axioms. Another cannot be taught to count one hundred. The 
majority of our race will be found between these extremes, equally 
removed from both. If three students begin together a lesson 
consisting of several propositions one will finish the second while 
another is still struggling unsatified with the first, and another 
has passed triumphantly over all. This does not prove our asser- 
tion false. Along the chain of axioms one can run a furlong at a 
breath, another can only keep a common-place gait, and that for 
a short time without resting. He can go to the end if his patience 
does not fail him. Another advantage is the results admit no 
discussion or debate. He who doubts a mathematical truth 
exposes his own folly and excludes himself from the circles of 
rational beings. Perhaps most men in the progress to intellectual 
maturity pass through (or enter, some stay there for life,) a 
stage in which the mind just awaking to the consciousness of 
power doubts, cavils, and trifles with everything. Every proposi- 
tion is challenged. Eveiy question is an open one. The man in 



44 Addresses 

this state must dig for himself to the foundation, if not, indeed, 
below it. He bustles about hither and thither through the fields 
of truth, a walking ubiquitous interrogation mark. It is well 
to have a study along which you can carry a class of flippant 
sceptics. In mathematics we have it. The mathematics have 
their mysteries, their riddles, their unsolved problems, but begin- 
ners do not often wander where these are found. Another 
advantage connected with the last is you can arrive at certainty. 
In teaching you can insist on certain accuracy, rigid, literal, 
perfect accuracy. Many studies which are not only necessary 
but indispensable have not this advantage. In some studies every 
lesson branches out indefinitely in all directions. He who has 
studied it with most patience and most success will be most 
unwilling to say I understand it thoroughly. But a lesson on 
mathematics, or a proposition in geometry, can be mastered as 
completely by the pupil as the teacher. The teacher will, of 
course, see relations and connections between it and others still 
lying below the horizon to his pupil, but the pupil can grasp the 
proposition as clearly, repose on its reasoning with as much satis- 
faction, as he can. PerhajDS, after all, this is the characteristic 
of mathematical study as a means of intellectual discipline. You 
can insist on accuracy. You can show the student it is not enough 
for him to plausibly amuse or embarrass the antagonist which 
each lesson affords, but he must conquer or be conquered. This 
is to be not even a drawn battle. Every time he is called out in 
the recitation room he must bear himself handsomely and gal- 
lantly, but victoriously, or you can disarm him and drive him 
completely from the field. In a word, you can show him — and 
this is doing a student great service — you can show him there is 
no middle ground between knowing his lesson and not laiowing 
it. You can banish almost entirely from the recitation room 
those most intolerable things, tolerable recitations. Your class 
will consist of various grades of mind, this may embarrass you 
as to the quantity of work you may expect, but not at all as to 
quality. 
Putting these features together, in mathematics, then, we have 



J. H. Carlisle 45 

clear terms joined together in faultless, indisputable reasoning, 
this reasoning advancing by steps so short that any sound mind, 
however weak, can follow, to results precisely ascertained and 
easily verified, can you think of any feature wanting to con- 
stitute a perfect system of intellectual discipline? Mathematics 
lies apart from the interests, the passions or the prejudices of 
men, a field where all may take healthful exercise. No light falls 
on that field but that which Bacon calls dry light. The beings 
who frequent it are emotionless and passionless, but they are 
swift and strong. He who has conquered them oftenest will, 
other things being equal, most easily gain the mastery elsewhere. 
He will come with most advantage to the shocks and collisions of 
real life. Among the clear, cold propositions of mathematics a 
man may gather wisdom and skill which will not desert him 
when he comes to detect the sophisms that are current among 
men. 

"The athlete nurtured for the Olympic game gains strength 
at least for life." 

If you enter a recitation room and see a class every member of 
which has his attention awake and following some train of rea- 
soning, challenging the reciter at every step for a reason for 
every step, you need not hesitate to pronounce that every one is 
acquiring a most valuable part of his education. And that, too, 
without waiting to inquire what pursuit or profession he may 
have in view. At this point we are furnished with a rebuke to 
that spirit abroad which would banish from schools and colleges 
every study not bearing, not only directly but instantly and 
palpably on the affairs of everyday life. We are not disposed 
or able to define precisely the limits and restraints within which 
this spirit should be indulged. There are some manifestations of 
it, however, which we believe entirely wrong and connected with 
the subject. It is a mistake (and yet a common one in our 
country schools) for boys to devote all their time to arithmetic 
in the expectation of being better prepared for business. Parents 
sometimes, seeing that business involves calculations, lay their 
plans of education as if the chief glory of man consisted in 



46 AddRES9S5S 

adding up columns of figuras. Some experience has led me to 
conclude that in most such cases the young gentleman would do 
better to go into business at once. We have very rarely seen a 
young man spend his time profitably in such cases. This can be 
traced up to higher grades of learning. In college too often, the 
student who expects to be an engineer will attend the mathe- 
matical lesson, but neglect some other. He who expects to be a 
physician will closely attend the chemical lectures, but neglect 
languages or mental and moral philosophy. As a very general 
rule this is all wrong. It is founded on views of education which 
are not only narrow, but false. It is a short-sighted, gross utili- 
tarianism. It is worse, it is utilitarianism run mad. The phrase 
"preparing for a profession" often receives too narrow and 
degraded a meaning. Nothing would be gained by abolishing 
all higher studies in our colleges and turning them into huge 
workshops. The question proposed to every one in this stage of 
an education is not do you intend to be a merchant, a lawyer, a 
physician or a farmer. But do you intend to be a man, an athletic, 
well-developed, symmetrical man. You should not make your 
education a means to your profession, make that a means to an 
end. Your mind is not given you that you might make a good 
workman in this or that calling, but it was given you that you 
might accomplish high and holy purposes in life which can be 
best accomplished by taking this or that profession and, of 
course, trying to excell in it. If by preparation for business you 
mean an acquaintance with the details, the technicalities, the 
manipulations of any calling, neither the school nor the college 
can give it, and they ought not to promise or try to do so. But 
if you mean awakened and cultivated intellect which is strong 
to use any tool, if you mean power which can easily throw itself 
into any shape; if you mean strength which can easily be avail- 
able in any direction, the school and college can give it. But not 
by anticipating, not by casting side glances at his future office 
and taking its dimensions. 

Suppose a young man to pass through a course of training not 
essentially different from that pursued in most of our colleges. 



J. H. Carlisle 47 

The time arrives for him to lay aside the student garb. He 
walks out among his fellowmen and asks them to assign him a 
post in the world's broad field of battle, asks them to give him 
something to do. Do I hear the whisper, "What is the student 
fit for?" In his behalf I can indignantly retort and ask, "Wliat 
is he not fit for?" Is there any post in society for which the 
ability to think, to think patiently and clearly, is not an excellent 
preparation? Cannot a mind that has been familiar with the 
best and wisest men, a mind accustomed to meet difficulty and 
just as accustomed to conquer, a mind that feeds on truth as its 
native element, a mind that has measured the awful sanctions 
of duty and has surrendered itself deliberately and irrevocably 
to them, can it not easily adjust itself to any post or rise to the 
exigencies of any station ? Put such a young man anywhere, you 
cannot throw him into a place where a cultivated intellect will 
not make itself to be seen and felt. Put him in the pulpit if duty 
calls, put him in the office, put him in the workshop, put him to 
the plough, put him to sweep the streets and he will give the 
world assurance of a man. 

There are reasons of different kinds why the course of educa- 
tion should include far beyond the boldest and grossest elements 
of utility and only as a very general rule they should be the same 
for all. It is well that we tarry together as long as we can in 
the common hall before each retires to his cell. We must soon 
go each to his own road in the vineyard; let us walk abreast as 
far as we may, filling our minds from the same intellectual and 
moral stores which will be a bond between us and the great 
brotherhood of man. We must very soon take each one the livery 
of his special calling, and looking at life and truth in a profes- 
sional light it may be the florid red or the pale and sickly yellow 
which shall tinge everything, the heavens above, the earth 
beneath, man's nature, human life. Let us while we may bathe 
ourselves in the pure white light which blends so harmoniously 
all the rest. 

The second reason why mathematics deserve a place in every 
course of study is they store the mind with useful knowledge. 



48 Addresses 

When it is remembered that mathematics underlie most of the 
physical sciences it will be seen what a wide, indeed what a 
boundless field this division of our subject opens to us. We 
propose only to show by a few miscellaneous instances that the 
division which ignorance loves to draw between abstract and 
useful is apt to be unfair and erroneous, that even the higher and 
pure mathematics do good even in the narrow use of that term. 
We might decide this question at once by a simple reference to a 
very characteristic and rapidly increasing branch of modern 
literature. I refer to such books. Engineer's Text Book, 
Mechanic's Hand Book, Carpenter's Guide, and all that family 
of books. Take up any one and read it, you will not go many 
pages before your knowledge of mathematics will be put to the 
test. This is not because the authors of these books love to dis- 
play their knowledge, but because they cannot explain the work 
which these men are called on to do without resorting to math- 
ematics. What is abstract science? That which was abstract 
once is not so now. The chemist once discovered as an abstract 
fact, that the particles of water when heated to a certain point 
would separate and fly apart. Today we have the steam engine, 
which is simply that fact embodied. It seems a very abstract 
employment to watch the stars. What have we to do with them 
or they with us ? Indeed, the world has perpetuated its sense of 
the uselessness of the employment in the word stargazing. But 
never did a ship cross the ocean that was not guided by star- 
gazers. The motion of the stars as interpreted by science governs 
and controls all your ideas of time, all your engagements down 
to the ringing of your dinner bell. One hundred years ago Dr. 
Johnson, when he wished to speak of a man engaged in an 
employment confessedly and superlatively useless, spoke of him 
as watching the wind. He ranked him with one who would count 
the drops of rain. Lieutenant Maury has spent several years 
watching the wind and has by so doing increased the probabilities 
that a letter which you drop in the postoffice here will reach the 
other side of the ocean safely and speedily. It seems a very 
abstract employment to draw a triangle and study its angles and 



J. H. Carlisle 49 

its sides, but all astronomy and all navigation depend on that 
triangle. An eclipse of the sun comes on one people with all 
the suddenness of a catastrophe and spreads horror and dismay 
over all the darkened nation and man, erect, intelligent man, 
is as affrighted as the beasts in his yard. The same phenomenon 
was the subject of conversation in another country long before 
it happened. Every one could tell at what precise tick of the 
watch it would begin and end, and when it came ten thousand 
serious, intelligent faces were upturned to watch the sublimity 
of the scene, the schoolboy having prepared his smoked glass and 
the astronomer his telescope. This knowledge which seems to 
lift one nation so far above another was gained by as abstract an 
employment as the study of that triangle. Humbolt, when a 
young man, walked across the isthmus connecting North and 
South America. He labored for words to express his conviction 
of the benefits which would result to civilization if the ocean 
could be joined by a canal. Before Humbolt dies the same end 
is better attained. A few months since a party went as on a 
holiday excursion to witness the opening of a railroad. Abstract 
experiments on electricity have resulted in something more won- 
derful still. Messages from man to man are sent with almost 
the speed of the swift-winged arrows of light. Scarcely had the 
first wire been erected when some one asked why not extend one 
across the ocean. The question may have been intended as irony 
or jest. But Young America, scientific Young America, I mean, 
was struck with the thought. He has never contracted the habit 
of saying, "It cannot be done." And at this moment, having 
gradually extended wire from station to station until he has 
reached the farthest eastern point, there on the foot of ground 
which stretches out farthest in the Atlantic, there with a huge coil 
of wire on his arm stands Jonathan evidently calculating. He 
guesses he shall be able to throw it over if his neighbor will meet 
him on the other bank and fasten it to Dover's Cliff or Lands End. 
He means it for no feat of idle dexterity, he means by it to work 
an era in the history of science and of human welfare. The two 
worlds have been lying thousands of miles apart, an unsocial 

4— c. A. 



50 Addresses 

ocean rolling between. If he brings them together so that the 
continents can talk together as a man to his friend he intends 
his first message shall be peace and good will from the new world 
to the old world. But railroads, though not so wonderful, are more 
distinctly the characteristic of our age. Have abstract sciences 
anything to do with them? How are railroads built, by science 
or by art? We might learn valuable lessons from the history of 
railroads, but we propose to make a more familiar use of them. 
What was the first indication you had in this community that a 
railroad was in progress to a village? Were you startled all at 
once by the rattling of spades and earth carts? No, science, 
abstract science, went before. A man with some strange-looking 
instrument came over the hills, took his notes, and as if to shock 
all your ideas of labor retired to the shade of a tree to go through 
some long mathematical calculations. Suppose the day, so 
anxiously expected, to have arrived. The road is finished. I will 
ask one simple, intelligent question. Who built that road? The 
President, the Engineer might present their different and appar- 
ently conflicting claims. And while you are trying to settle this 
dispute an army of laborers, black and white, throw up a forest 
of brawny arms and shout in a voice of thunder, "You are all 
wrong, we built that road." Who is right? Who did build the 
road ? It is exactly correct to say they are all right. It took them 
all to build the road. And this is the truth we wish to establish. 
Art cannot say to science I have no need of you. The abstract 
is the Mother of the practical. The crowd jeered the scholar or 
philosopher as he started on his long path of speculation. But 
scarcely had he disappeared from one point of the horizon when 
he appears at another and lays some luxury or comfort of life 
at their feet. The chemist shut himself up to try some abstract 
experiments on flame. The miners without were loud and free 
in their complaints against the indolence and uselessness of his 
employment while they even destroy life and strength in the 
dreary mine. The door of the laboratory opens and Sir H. Day 
steps forth with a new lantern in his hand and presents it to 
his brethren and the lives of hundreds of them were saved. But 



J. H. Carlisle 51 

a few weeks since it was announced that a discovery had been 
made by which ships could find a direct course on the ocean with 
far less calculation than before. The mathematician in his study 
has sought and won the confidence of science. She beckoned him 
aside from the crowd and showed him a hidden treasure which 
the eye of the veteran sailor had failed to find. Judge Story 
says he heard Robert Fulton say that after he had surely achieved 
the invention of the steamboat he spent months in tedious cal- 
culations upon the resistance of fluids to perfect it. Was he not 
laboring as really, as directly for us when spending months in 
calculations involving the higher parts of pure mathematics as 
when with the mallet and chisel in hand he was shaping his 
timber and bathing it with the sweat of his brow ? 

AVhy did England excel in arts and rule the waves? Was it 
because her shipyards were full of workmen whose eyes were 
true and whose hands were skilful and strong? It was also 
because Newton, Davy and Cavendish were within laboratories. 
Addresses were delivered by able men in science at the close of 
the great exhibition on the results of the exhibition. Playfair 
said, it is worth the whole exhibition if we are only taught that 
we must cultivate science more industriously or other nations 
will excel us. Captain Washington repeats the sentiment in 
different words as applicable to the commercial interests. He 
says as steam advances we must give mathematical instructions 
to those who are to command steamships or we shall be left far 
astern in the race. We spoke of the folly in individual cases of 
neglecting those studies which seem to be a little removed from 
utility. If you extend and generalize your view this becomes 
a serious national evil. The cry is sometimes raised, 

"Down with the abstract sciences, 
They do no good." 

The attempt is usually made to array art against science, the 
worker against the thinker. Art and science are not enemies, 
they are not even strangers. They are members of one house- 
hold. Let the family dwell in peace. Art is the elder bom of 



52 Addresses 

two lovely sisters. At first she was the more precocious of the 
two, but now her steps are directed and supported by her younger 
but more intelligent sister science. But there is no morality in 
mathematics, it has been said. No. Neither is there any in the 
alphabet, the rules of grammar or the multiplication table, but 
they are all necessary and there is no immorality in them. We 
think the attempt is sometimes made to draw too well-defined 
a line between studies which are favorable to religious feelings 
and those which are not. If you wish to know the moral char- 
acter of an intellectual man the question perhaps is not what does 
he study, but how does he study it. To some the Bible is a pro- 
fane and infidel study because they do not read with reverence, 
with patience and docility. Others find food for their religious 
instincts and appetites in the most barren fields of nature or 
speculations. A French philosopher once stood on the height of 
science, looked with an intelligent eye on all the wonders of the 
heavens, the dread magnificence of the sky, and coldly and irrev- 
erently exclaimed, "The heavens declare the glory of Newton and 
Lablace." Another can find trace of wisdom and omnipotence 
in the eye and the wing of every insect. If the mathematics and 
allied sciences have no definite teaching on the subject of religion 
they certainly teach at least two ti-uths which at least are friendly 
to it. They teach man his responsibility to a higher power. They 
suggest a lawgiver. Who can see nature lying passive at the feet 
of higher power and not think of a creator and preserver and 
governor? Science is but a short expression to indicate all the 
habits and laws of nature. There are a few pages in that history 
which records the achievement of the human mind more won- 
derful than that which records the triumph of modem astronomy. 
The discovery of a new planet thrilled the last generation. It is 
now a common occurrence. But with all its discoveries the tele- 
scope has never discovered one lawless world. The chemist with 
his microscope has never detected one refractory atom of matter. 
Will He who binds by a sure law every star in the sky, every 
grain of sand in the desert of Sahara, every leaf in the forest of 
the earth, every drop of water in the Pacific ocean, will he form 



J. H. Carlisle 53 

an intelligent being, stamp it with some resemblance to himself, 
speak to it that thrilling word which none but himself can fully 
understand, "Think and Live Forever," and then throw it from 
him and let it seek perfection and happiness in wandering away, 
an unclaimed, unacknowledged vagrant? If I seek to make water 
rise above its level without applying external force I lose my 
labor, and so throughout all the works of nature, nature is under 
law. My body is under law. The physiologist tells me so. I 
feel it. For when I have interfered with these I have suffered. 
The man of medical science has relieved me by applying to some 
other law. My mind is under law, the mental philosopher tells 
me so. I feel it. And when I disobey I suffer. Wlien the teacher 
with the Bible in his hand approaches to tell me my moral nature 
is under law, is it the part of a Christian, is it the part of a 
philosopher, is it the part of a reasoning being, to scout the mes- 
sage? The world, the universe is under law. Perhaps a created 
mind cannot grasp a grander thought than that. It is the starting 
point of all philosophy, of all theology. It is the teaching of all 
science. Science knows that every law is but the name given to 
an impulse by the Omnipotent, that hand at which touch nature 
moves. Science knows that if nature could speak, her language 
would be none of those sickly sentimentalities put in her mouth 
by poets, but her first impulse of intelligent life would be to 
throw her eyes upward and her first utterance, "Speak, thy 
servant heareth." 

Another lesson is the weakness of man. Is this a paradox to 
say science teaches the weakness of man ? If you wish to find the 
clearest convictions of the depravity of our nature look for them 
in the bosom of the holiest man ; so if you wish to find the clearest 
con^dction of our weakness look into the mind of the wisest phil- 
osopher. As we extend our horizon we but increase the number 
of things we cannot understand. Take matter of any form, 
catechise it patiently and you will receive much information. 
Ask it, "Wliat can you do?" "How will you be acted upon and 
act if I put you in this or that position?" "How can I make you 
useful?" To questions like these you will be given valuable 



54 Addresses 

answers. But if you ask further, "AVhat are you?" you touch 
upon a secret which Newton never could extort from the weakest 
atom of matter. Will not the student receive here a lesson which 
will serve him Avhen he studies elsewhere? Man of science, are 
you about to reject the system which the Bible discloses, are you 
about to doubt even the existence of a great uncaused Creator 
because you cannot understand it ? Why, if you have started out 
to understand things, why begin at the highest? Is that your 
method of study to begin with the highest part of a subject and 
study downward? Begin with th^ pebble or flower. Student 
of mathematics, are you about to reject these things? Write 
down for me about a dozen figures. Now, tell me what they 
mean. Give me some idea of the number expressed by those 
twelve figures. You cannot do it simply because your mind is 
too small to take it in. Alas, for you ! Poor human nature ! At 
one moment we strive to grasp the whole scheme and plan of that 
empire which stretches through all eternity, the next we try to 
comprehend a line of figures reaching once across a slate, baffled 
equally in both. The student of mathematics will have occasion 
as frequently as the student of any other science to remember 
that valuable remark of Arnold, "Before a confessed and uncon- 
querable difficulty the mind, if in a healthy state, reposes as 
quietly as when in possession of an acquired truth." He will 
remember that it has been said with equal force and truth, "The 
unsolved problem of this life will be the axioms of the next." 
We could not consent that a brand should be placed on the mother 
of physical science as if immoral. Having repelled this unjust 
charge we gladly consent that they all, with all the other studies 
and sciences, do obeisance to that science, call it by what sacred 
or by what secular name you please, that science which teaches 
of the Creator and the creature and the relations between them. 
It is well that individuals should know precisely what it can do 
and what it cannot do. I have wants which science can supply, 
I have others more important which it cannot. It can post over 
land and ocean without rest to serve me, but I feel that there is 
something within me not made of matter, something above mat- 



J.H.Carlisle 55 

ter and its laws. If I am disappointed when I contrast the per- 
formance of this life with its promise, if I sigh for a peaceful 
and a sinless home, science has no word of comfort or instruction 
for me then. The astronomer knows no such world, if he did he 
could not tell me how to reach it. The chemist has no substance 
incorruptible, undefiled and that fadeth not away. The archi- 
tects of earth know nothing of a house not made with hands. 
Science cannot purify the passions or guide the impulses of that 
tender thing the human heart; science cannot support or guide 
the immortal enemies of that startling thing the human mind; 
science cannot still the undying cry for sustenance which ever 
rises from that awful thing the human soul. Science can crowd 
the sick room with luxuries and comfort but dare not approach 
the bedside as a teacher to enlighten the mind of the sufferer. 
If he dies science can build him a tomb which ages will admire 
or worship. Science can analyze his dust as coldly and as pre- 
cisely as if it were the dust from the streets. But with anxiety 
vibrating between hope and fear I ask, "Did you find the vital 
spark among those ashes, or has it gone out in the darkness for- 
ever?" Science is dumb. It is well for nations to know pre- 
cisely what science can do and what it cannot do, lest they be 
disappointed. 

Society is laboring under evils which the mathematician cannot 
cure. Men need many things besides railroads and machinery. 
The intellect is not the seat of many of the passions and 
impulses which bless or curse mankind, but the heart. In much 
that is spoken and written on the subject of education it seems 
to be taken for granted that a little more intellectual culture is 
all that is needed to secure or augment our public peace and 
prosperity. There is no more reason to fear that this great nation 
will ever perish or falter one moment in its course for lack of 
intellectual culture than there is to fear that at some future time 
it may happen that a majority of all the people will be idiots 
and there will not be sane men enough to take care of the rest. 
There is needed something to come with soothing and restraining 
power upon the public mind which now heaves with a wild and 



56 Addresses 

fearful energy. There is needed a pure Christianity to go about 
our excited people and lay her gentle hand upon their turbulent 
passions and make them grow tranquil at her touch. See the 
nations of Europe overtaken in a storm. While Christianity, like 
her Divine Master once on the Galilean lake walks to and fro 
over the troubled waters, neglected. They cry out at her 
approach, "It is a spirit," and will not receive her. If they 
would but admit her how soon would every ship be at the desired 
haven and there would be a great calm. In our favored country 
no man can force his brother in this matter. It may suit the 
purposes of some politicians to conclude, therefore, all religions 
are alike good, leaving every sect to have its religion as every 
child must have its toy ; they will go on sublimely indifferent to 
all and build up the nation's virtue and peace. But "He that 
sitteth in the heavens shall laugh" at such attempts to make a 
nation permanently happy or great. We pass this thought hur- 
riedly to reach another which began the services of this day and 
may appropriately close them. That education which is not 
religious is not deficient in quantity only, it is wrong in kind. 
Religion is not a part which added to other parts make up a 
complete whole. It is an element which must pervade every part. 
It is not a postscript or appendix, which must be added to the 
book, it is a spirit which must characterize every page. It is not 
a benediction at the close. We cannot build up religious char- 
acters among the young as we build churches, hurry them up 
with the bustle and confusion of a profane building and then by 
laying the cornerstone with all the pomp of a religious rite hope 
to consecrate the pile. It is cheering to see how many minds are 
turned toward this great subject. Our own little commonwealth 
never before contained so many institutions of learning. We 
believe the field is not yet so crowded that the laborers must turn 
their weapons against each other. There is room for all. There 
is room for the State college who seems lately to have renewed 
her youth while celebrating her fiftieth anniversary. Fifty years 
hence when some old graduate of Wofford College shall lean on 
his staff to tell another generation about our beginning I hope 



J. H. Caelisle 57 

then the State college may be entering on the hundredth year 
of its existence with all the marks of age, except its weakness. 
There is room for all the institutions of those with a different 
name or faith. Every building reared by whatever hands that 
rises dedicated to the great work of religious instruction shall 
but draw from our hearts the fraternal benediction, "For our 
brethren and companions's sakes, I will now say, Peace be within 
thee," and it will at once meet the wishes of Benjamin Wofford 
and fill our own ambitions if we can help them to furnish, what 
our age and country greatly need and must have, thoroughly 
educated, conscientious men. Let us all who touch the educa- 
tional interest of our State at any point, whether at that school 
which is first in time and first in influence or the academy or 
college, let us all aim at this and then with the blessing of 
heaven whatever storms may sweep the forests of the earth the 
Palmetto shall stand a tree planted by the rivers of water. 



58 Addresses 



AN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE OPENING OF REIDVILLE 

ACADEMY, 1859. 

The opening of an academy like this is an era in the history of 
any community. And it is well to mark it with some unusual 
ceremony. When we look forward to the results of this enter- 
prise, when we think of the boys and girls who will here be 
quickened into intellectual life, when we think of the aspirations 
which will be awakened, when we reflect that these groves and 
streets, this building, will be stamped on the youthful memories 
of many who will go forth from this place to mingle in the 
world's broad field of battle, we feel that it is not a common 
occasion which brings us together. How shall we spend the hour 
on which, under such peculiar and interesting circumstances, we 
have entered ? Shall we turn to the past and compare the abun- 
dant privileges which are around us with a state of things exist- 
ing within the memory of some now present? Shall we indulge 
in a proper feeling of pride when we remember the prominent 
place which will perhaps be assigned our district in the present 
educational movement in our State ? Shall we look to the future 
when all these efforts shall have had time to produce their 
national results, when our district will not only improve the 
material resources with which Providence, in "lavish kindness," 
has blessed it, but shall have brought forth from her humblest 
cottages jewels richer than all her gold and iron ores, and will 
have developed her resources of mind ? Or shall we turn from all 
these inviting trains of thought to less inspiring, but it may be 
more profitable, subjects? 

Gentlemen of the Board of Trustees, friends and patrons of 
this enterprise, do you wish this to be a good school ? The pains 
you have taken, the expense you have incurred, the teachers you 
have selected indicate and warrant that high expectation. What 
is a good school ? What things are necessary to constitute a good 
school ? How may we know a good school ? If any school is not 



J. H. Carlisle 59 

a good one, who is to blame? These are simple questions, but 
they are comprehensive and go to the root of the matter. We 
will not attempt to answer them formally, but will confine our- 
selves to one part of this subject. It is the impressive custom, 
in some branches of the church, when a new relation begins 
between a minister and his people, to deliver a solemn charge to 
both parties, showing the responsibilities resting on each. We 
may well, and without irreverence, be reminded of this custom on 
an occasion like this. The relation between a teacher and his 
pupils and patrons is second only to that between a minister and 
his hearers, in its Avide and far-reaching results. Without claim- 
ing any authority, you will allow me to offer a few thoughts 
going to show the responsibility you incur by having an enter- 
prise like this in your midst. There will not be as much order in 
the remarks to follow, as a little more leisure in this preparation 
would have insured, but they will all, I hope, have more or less 
connection with this subject. 

THE NECESSITY OF CO-OPERATION BETWEEN THE COMMUNITY AND 
PARENTS AND TEACHERS. 

It has passed into a maxim in education, "As is the teacher so is 
the school." This is as true as most maxims. But there is another 
side to this truth. May we not say, "As are the parents, as is this 
community, so is the school?" We may notice at once a common, 
but, we must think, a mistaken excuse offered by many, "We can- 
not get a good school." Now, it is possible for a man of unusual 
intelligence, here and there, to be in a community which cannot 
sympathize with him, who may with truth utter this complaint. 
But when the complaint is general it is mistaken. As a general 
rule it may be said to every community, your school is just as 
good as you wish or can appreciate. Several things are necessary, 
on the part of parents, to make a good school. There must be 
some proper sense of the nature and importance of education. 
Children are born in ignorance and need instruction, they are 
depraved and need control, these may be said to constitute the 
whole of education, and in both of these respects parents should 



60 Addresses 

have an enlightened estimate of its great importance. As regards 
instruction, the studies proper to be pursued, it would be out of 
place to say much. If we indulge in general remarks that is 
unprofitable, if we go into details, we become uninteresting to 
most of the audience. We can notice, however, some mistakes made 
on this subject. It is a mistake to take too narrow a view of 
usefulness in studies. For example, a parent intends to put his 
son into a store. He concludes that all the education he needs 
is to write a good hand and understand arithmetic. Because a 
knowledge of figures is useful, he goes to work as though the chief 
end of man consisted in adding up columns of figures. If your 
theory is correct, my friend, you need scarcely send your boy to 
school at all. Any clever Yankee will invent you a calculating 
machine for the price of one year's tuition. Give your son one 
of these and armed and equipped with that, he will enter into 
life an educated man. The question you should ask in the earlier 
stages of education is not, do you intend your son shall be a mer- 
chant, lawyer or planter, but do you wish him to be a man, a 
well-developed, symmetrical man? This narrow view is founded 
on the mistaken opinion that education is intended chiefly to 
insure success in life, meaning success in making money. You 
may frequently hear a parent say, "I have had a hard time in 
life ; my boy shall fare better. I intend to educate him." It may 
seem to be going too far to find fault with this expression or the 
feeling which prompts it. We do not, in every case. But it may 
betray a total misconception of the whole matter. Suppose, 
soon after a boy or young man enters on his educational course, 
a good situation offers (and it is a suggestive fact that a good 
situation means a lucrative one) , would not the temptation be too 
strong for many a parent? Would he not be willing to cut short 
the process and push him into life with an unfurnished mind, on 
the ground implied, and perhaps expressed, that as his only 
object was to secure a good situation, if the situation can be pro- 
cured without education, there is a clear gain of time and money ? 
Higher views than these must be taken, surely we will not have 
to travel very far along this line of thought until we reach the 



J. H. Carlisle 61 

emphatic declaration, " Tis not the whole of life to live," or this 
inspired maxim, "A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of 
the things Avhich he possesseth." Another mistake is, many seem to 
think education will have some mysterious influence in purifying 
individuals, communities or nations, that an increase of intel- 
lectual culture will necessarily be an increase of individual purity 
or happiness. Did you ever know a man become a dangerous or 
useless member of society purely for want of intellectual culture? 
Or extend the question. You have read history, did you ever 
meet, in the cemetery of nations, with a tombstone containing this 
inscription : "Here lies the remains of a nation that perished for 
lack of intellectual culture"? Never. Have you any fear that 
this great nation will perish thus? You may as well fear that, 
at some future time, a majority of all our population will be idiots 
and there will not be sane men enough to take care of the rest. 
But parents, avoiding these and kindred mistakes, must under- 
stand the nature of education and feel its importance and feel 
and exhibit an interest in it. How can this interest be displayed ? 
As you display an interest in anything else. You may occasion- 
ally meet parents who, when the teacher visits them or something 
else calls on them for a set exhibition of these feelings, will 
sorrowfully say, "It is strange, our boy does not take to his 
books." Now, we might whisper, It would be strange, indeed, 
if your boy did take to his books. Do you expect a casual and 
formal expression dropping from your lips will have more 
weight than the whole tone and complexion of your daily life 
and the general spirit and genius of your house? Will a man 
expect to gather when he has not sowed ? 

The press may groan beneath a burden of books, pamphlets 
and addresses on education, and yet the public mind is not stirred 
to its depths. Our people do not yield their sympathies and 
energies to this as they do to inferior causes. Let us seek a few 
proofs and illustrations of this. We may first call upon those 
whose positions and duties place them where they have the best 
opportunity to judge. Wliere is the teacher who has not to com- 
plain that he has not the sympathy and co-operation of the 



62 Addresses 

community, as he needs and desires them ? Where is the teacher 
who has not felt that he and his work are alike forgotten in the 
din and bustle of daily life and trade? There is in every com- 
munity, on any one day, a great amount of awakened solicitude, 
a gi-eat many distinct feelings of interest and anxiety. How 
much of that solicitude, how many of those feelings relate to 
the schools, the teachers, the educational enterprises and efforts 
in their midst? Where is the teacher who has not felt that he 
would gladly raise his voice in the streets, or public square even, 
if he might only arrest attention and cry, "Ho, friends, stop a 
moment. I have something to say to you. If you had given me 
a dog to train, a favorite colt to break for you, you would show 
some interest in the experiment. But I have your children and 
you leave me alone. There is little or no intelligent or sympa- 
thizing co-operation between us." Compare for a moment, my 
friend, the triumphs and defeats, the excitement of the daily life 
of a teacher, with that of a man in the business walks of life. 
The one has something striking, something palpable to aim at, 
some speculation, some plan to accomplish, and closes the day 
of effort flushed with triumph if he has been able to increase his 
credit or resources. The teacher has no such object or hopes to 
cheer him on. He labors to arrest the attention of this boy, to 
repress this vice in that one, and to awaken to a sense of respon- 
sibility a third. Day and night it may be that he is haunted by 
the presence of some wayward pupil while the question still 
recurs, "What can I do to save that boy?" The father of that 
boy lives and moves in a totally distinct world of anxiety and 
effort, closes the day with triumph as he sees the success of some 
favorite plan, and rises refreshed in body and in mind and goes 
forth again to the arena where man jostles his fellows in the 
crowded race for money or for fame. The teacher, languid and 
hopeless, goes to wear out energy and health spending his 
strength on a clay-cold soil, that killeth every seed. The teacher 
often is tempted to envy the laborer, the citizen whom he passes 
on his w^ay to his allotted task. "You go to work upon matter, 
which, though dumb and sluggish, is never untractable or ref rac- 



J. H. Carlisle 63 

tory ; I go to work upon mind, wayward, capricious, yet immortal 
mind." How often does one, in passing the schoolhouse reflect, 
"There is a work doing here"? There is perhaps a general sus- 
picion that school examinations are more showy than solid. We 
allude to this, not for the purpose of either affirming or denying 
the justice of it. Suppose it entirely true. Is there not a cause? 
Cannot teachers, like other men, adjust themselves to the demands 
of society around them? Will they not learn, like other trades, 
to furnish the kind and quality of wares which their customers 
demand? May it not be, that highly seasoned fancy dishes are 
necessary to create a short-lived fictitious appetite in the absence 
of a healthy one? 

A simple experiment might throw some light on the real 
interest existing, in any community, on this subject. Let it be 
understood that for one week, or even one day, the citizens would 
be expected to attend while their boys were faithfully carried 
over the plainest useful branches of education. Would the crowd 
and the interest correspond to the importance of the occasion? 
Might not an examination like that, or a plain address on edu- 
cation, be substituted for the Riot Act in dispersing a crowd ? 

But, not teachers only, their houses may be called on to give 
testimony here. In plain language, the schoolhouses of the land 
show, that, though education has taken its place among those 
subjects which are complimented on anniversary^ occasions, yet 
it has not a deep hold on the practical, earnest sympathies of our 
people. If I could call up before you these temples of Apollo 
as they are found, at the cross roads, in the old fields, pine groves, 
the chinquepin thickets, they would prove this without my feeble 
help. Horace Mann once said he wished it possible to preserve 
some specimens of our schoolhouses to instruct posterity. And 
what a collection of educational fossils they would make ! Who 
has not some vivid remembrances of a wet day or a cold day in a 
country schoolhouse? Are there not communities, even now, 
where the hand of elegance and taste has retouched everything 
but the schoolhouse? Does not the traveler yet, after passing 
well-kept farms where the houses, the kitchen and even the 



64 Addresses 

stables show progress and refinement, does he not yet meet a non- 
descript building which, by a very satisfactory rule of logic, as 
it is probably unfit for any other purpose, he concludes must be 
a schoolhouse, situated on some bleak, barren, sunstruck old field, 
where no sensible farmer would build his calfpen. And here your 
children spend the most tender and impressive years of life ; here 
they come, to have their morals and manners refined and 
improved. Look at the facilities and apparatus with which our 
schoolhouses are furnished and judge whether our people rightly 
appreciate this subject. Take a single case. How many of them 
have even a map of the State? Has any attempt been made to 
furnish a liistory or a map of our State? The new map may be 
said to be out of reach of common schools from its price, but why 
is it that the old map is stored among book-sellers anxious to sell 
them at one dollar, and cannot even get that, while commissioners, 
trustees and parents are satisfied to let their children be without ? 
Is it fanciful to trace one or two of our national traits of char- 
acter to the bare, uninviting, uncomfortable style of our school- 
houses where the children spend the years when tastes and 
habits are formed? At the risk of being thought extreme or 
fanciful you will permit me to suggest this as one cause of two 
general defects in our character. The one is a want of general 
sympathizing love of nature, or to express it in a phrase of the 
times, the want of the esthetic element. Our people seem fond 
of visiting fine scenery and landscapes, but do they not go, in 
many cases, from some other cause than a warm and appreciative 
love of the beautiful? A lively French writer says: "Were I 
emperor, I would have the alarm bell rung every night as a signal 
for my people to go out and look at the stars." Even this des- 
perate remedy would fail here. Our people, too generally, pass 
the season of youthful susceptibility and tenderness in scenes 
not calculated to win them to a love of the natural world. The 
common explanation is, that we are business like and practical, 
we have not time. Is not a better reason, we have not this feeling 
or passion to indulge? Another common, almost universal, trait 
of character may have its origin here. We mean a wanton love 



J. H. Carlisle 65 

of mischief, the wilful destruction of public and private property. 
The public buildings and public ways, the schoolhouses and 
churches will explain my meaning. Nations of Europe, for 
which, on set occasions, we express a great deal of sympathy and 
pity, can teach us a lesson of refinement, bluster and boast as we 
may. We are a nation of whittlers and scribblers. An intelli- 
gent traveler, blindfolded and set down in America, could tell 
where he is. See what our country Young America has done. 
Filled a continent with proofs of skill, energy and power until 
it almost quivers and palpitates with intelligence and life. He is 
now attenipting to join the oceans. Young America can do all 
this, yet he can't keep from whittling. "Alas ! the human mind is 
at fault." 

Is not another proof of our want of interest found in the pop- 
ular estimate placed on our literary institutions? Are they not 
often valued chiefly for the current of trade w^hich eddies around 
each one? Is not this found the most effective argument to use 
in creating an interest, a spirit of benevolence to compete for the 
location of one? A very legitimate ground of value, but surely 
not the highest. These are only the meaner blessings which the 
genius of education shakes from her wings as she lights upon you 
to dispense her riches and priceless gifts. These are but the 
crumbs that fall from the table as she spreads it among you and 
invites your children to the banquet. But a more convincing 
proof is found in the estimate popularly placed on teaching, as a 
profession, and this is precisely indicated by the eagerness or 
reluctance with which young men enter it. Is it, continued, an 
avenue to wealth and position? Do young men of cultivated 
minds, w^hen deciding on the claims and inducements of the 
different paths in life which invite them, do they seriously take 
this into consideration and does it require a careful calculation to 
decide where the preponderating advantage lies? Twenty years, 
ten years ago, could you have found a dozen men, of liberal 
education, who had made this the profession of their choice, not 
to eke out a scanty salary earned in another calling, not because 
failing in all other business they had resorted to this Botany Bay 

5— C. A. 



66 Addresses 

of other professions; but because it offered the inducement 
whether of emolument or distinction for which they were willing 
to labor ? Do you not, even now for a moment, involuntarily feel 
and perhaps express surprise, when in answer to the common 
question, "How long do you intend to teach?" a young man 
answers, "For life." Why do so many young men of promise 
enter it for a few years with a spirit and design which, freely 
expressed in words, would say, "Wait ! I do not count this part 
of my active life. This is only a prosaic introduction to the 
heroic history of my life. This is only a stoop preparatory to the 
spring which I intend to make towards the prizes that life 
offers?" Why is changing from this to a profession so often con- 
sidered as from a lower to a higher form of service? Why is it 
that you, even yet, find traces everywhere on the surface of society 
of the old opinion that while some intellect, some moral earnest- 
ness, some manly texture of character are needed to make a man 
succeed in any other liberal pursuit, it requires the smallest 
amount of all these to make a schoolmaster? Good, easy man, 
he only needs a little patience to make him just the drudge his 
menial offices require? Suppose, if you can, that it is common 
for young men to study law for a few years and then enter the 
profession of medicine, would you not consider it a curious and 
capricious distinction ? Whenever our people become thoroughly 
impressed with the importance of their educational enterprises, 
they will not be satisfied with the immature and uninstructed, 
however sincere and animated, efforts of the young. They will add 
to the vigor and energy of youth the calm strength of manhood 
and the experience of age. They will call from all the walks of 
life, whatever of intellectual ability, whatever of moral strength, 
whatever of grace or dignity or power can be found, and shutting 
them all up in the colleges or schools of the land, bid them find 
there their most enlarged ambitions filled, their highest aspira- 
tions quickened, their intensest exertion whether of mind or heart 
tasked, by the grandeur and magnificence of the work set before 
them. They will not be willing to trust to weak or ignorant 
hands the perilous material of youth, which may be fashioned 



J. H. Carlisle 67 

into vessels of honor and beauty, or, which a rash or careless 
touch may mar or indent forever. Some one has here quoted the 
singular and suggestive fact that in all our literature there is 
scarcely a well-drawn character of a teacher. No writer of 
fiction has drawn the picture of a teacher as a man of command- 
ing influence or character. Have you met such a one? Have they 
not all, from Domini Sampson to Ichabod Crane, something low 
or ludicrous? "VVe mention this with no feeling of disappoint- 
ment or mortification. The profession, which has furnished a 
real Thomas Arnold, may afford to bear this slight from writers 
of tales and novels. And yet, the teacher is in danger of yielding 
to low and unworthy views of his calling and its results. ^Vhen 
in mature life some classmate or early associate rushes past him 
and astonishes him with the splendor of his establishment in life, 
the grandeur of his business schemes and plans, he is tempted to 
think he has spent the elasticity and freshness of youth and early 
manhood for low and ignoble ends, that he has wasted an amount 
of energy and thought and toil which, directed in another 
channel, might have won him fame or fortune. Moments like 
these stamp the character, give it tone and complexion for life. 
Let the teacher at such a moment call back his vagrant thoughts, 
wishes and impulses and recur to the elementary principles. Let 
him make one more attempt to grasp thoroughly the ever fresh, 
ever recurring problem. What is the meaning and worth of life ? 
When is life a failure? Let him read Mrs. Barbauld's "Essay on 
Inconsistencies in Human Expectations." Let him read the life 
of Thomas Arnold. Let him go to the spot where Dr. Waddel 
lived and labored, giving to every young man who came under 
him an impulse and direction for life. Let him take, as his sure 
preventative against all heartlessness and despair, that sublime 
sentiment, "If I one soul impress, I have not lived in vain." 
There is one calling, but only one, which abounds in more lofty 
motives, more fruitful and undying incitements to duty than this. 
The teacher, who has consecrated himself to this high ministry, 
must yield veiy far to despondency before he can forget them all. 
Does his heart sink to reflect that history may forget to take his 



68 Addresses 

name in trust, that neither Cranford, Powers nor Mills will per- 
petuate his memory by a monument? What of that? The gay 
traveler, or excitement seeker, will never ask his resting place. 
But, in after years, some old pupil, subdued, chastened by the 
stern discipline of experience, will turn aside from the thorough- 
fare of life and clear away the weeds a little space until he finds 
it and, the impressions of his youth coming over him, he will 
there consecrate himself to high and holier aims in life and the 
seed dropped by the hand that moulders beneath shall spring up 
and bring forth its appointed harvest. Isn't that a moment for 
which kings might wish to die? Why could not a man sleep as 
sweetly there as in Westminster Abbey? 

But it will be sad and discouraging if we can go farther and 
find that what interest is excited in the community is not always 
rightly, or may we not say intelligently, directed. Just as if in 
war there is some important post to be gained which could be 
secured by the united strength of all our forces, and yet we are 
made sorry to find only a part engaged and even of this part 
some are wasting time and strength in wayside, profitless adven- 
tures. It might be unjust to apply to our country the severe 
remark of a foreigner, who says of his nation, "The very noise 
made about education shows that we have it not, as it is only 
lost articles that are cried about the streets." But there is too 
much vagueness in the excitement on this subject. You might, 
perhaps, embarrass many a father who is loud and sincere in his 
clamor for the education of his family, by the simple question, 
"Will you tell me exactly what you mean by educating your 
children?" 

Thus far we have chiefly spoken of the interest which parents 
should take in school where children are instructed^ but it is a 
place Avhere children are controlled, and thus deserves the most 
serious and constant attention of parents. Tupper, in one line, 
crowds a great deal of important truth on the subject of educa- 
tion. Speaking to a father, about his son, he says, "Teach him 
courtesy to all, reverence to some, and to thee unanswering 
obedience." Is obedience a character of the home discipline of 



J. H. Carlisle 69 

our time? If so, whence come these troops of undisciplined 
boys who crowd our schools and colleges, who mistake flippancy 
for manliness and wild insubordination for spirit? How comes 
it to pass that the same qualifications are now required, or sup- 
posed to be required, to make a good teacher that are required to 
make a good police officer? Why is it that our young people so 
often carry, to the last stage of educational life, the school-boy 
notion with which they begin it, that all power exerted over 
them is necessarily opposed to them and that the only manly 
attitude for them is one of antagonism to it? Let us not forget, 
in all this bustle about education, one truth. It has been said 
that Providence, in bringing human beings into the world, does 
not place them in schools, but in families. I understand that to 
mean that school, efficient as it is, is at last only man's device. 
The family is God's great ordinance and institution and cannot, 
must not, be supplanted. The school cannot take its place, cannot 
do its work. If used as a help to home discipline they may be a 
blessing, if as a substitute for it they may be a curse. This matter 
can be illustrated by a reference to Sabbath schools. It is a 
historical fact that may have escaped the notice of some of you, 
that when they were first proposed many good men, even min- 
isters, opposed them on the very ground that if benevolent per- 
sons undertook to give gratuitous religious instructions to 
children parents would relax their efforts at home. Does not the 
result show that they understood human nature well? Are not 
too many parents placing an unwarranted reliance on these 
agencies and relaxing efforts at home, expecting that, as they 
hear so much about their influence, they will, somehow or other, 
charm their children into the path of virtue or piety, forgetting 
that in the unfriendly climate of the world, the fruits of piety 
and truth do not grow up somehow or other, incidentally, spon- 
taneously, but, so far as human instrumentalities are concerned, 
as the result of toil and prayer? The state, the churches and 
communities may sow institutions of learning broadcast over the 
land, they may build and endow a college or academy on every 
hilltop and, unless parents meet the untransferable obligations 



70 Addresses 

imposed on them, those who expect a gi*acious regenerating 
influence to flow from the schools will meet with disappointment. 
How much of the ado and excitement about education, beginning 
with the manual labor system down to the last phase of the 
educational movement, is owing to an efl'ort to atone for and 
remedy a felt and confessed deficiency in home government I will 
not attempt to determine. It is as much your duty, as a parent, 
to make your child obey you as it is to obey your Creator your- 
self. The Creator, in wisdom and kindness, has clustered us 
together in families and has made provision for each to be gov- 
erned. We are in danger of carrying our boasted political 
doctrine of republicanism into departments of human duty, where 
they cannot be introduced without violating one great precept of 
the Lawgiver whose laws arfc often violated by individuals and 
communities, but never with impunity. Woe to the family gov- 
erned, or rather misgoverned, as a democracy or republic. Every 
breakfast table in the land should have an autocrat sitting at each 
end of it. If this be understood as a strained or exaggerated 
statement of an unimportant point, or as an advocate of bloody 
severity or tyranny, it is entirely misunderstood. Look, for a 
moment, at an illustration going to show that kindness and vigor 
are not inconsistent. Mr. Rarey, an American, has a wonderful 
skill in training horses. Among others, one was pointed out to 
him. Cruiser by name, on whom the boldest ostler had never 
succeeded in putting a saddle. Mr. Rarey went into his stable, 
with a few privileged friends, and soon he and Cruiser came out, 
apparently on the most intimate terms. He could sit on his back 
beating a drum, could play with his dangerous heels and fondle 
him as a lap dog. What is the matter? Has Cruiser lost his 
senses ? No, Cruiser has found his senses. And while we cannot 
tell the details of his system, we can hardly err in giving the 
following outline. Cruiser was given to understand that, if he 
was willing in good faith and without the slightest reservation, 
to confess (first privately, before a few friends, and then pub- 
licly) that Mr. Rarey was his superior and lawgiver, friendly 
relations might exist between them. But if not, there was trouble 



J. H. CARLISIiE 71 

ahead. I may have introduced this illustration somewhat too 
lightly for the subject and the occasion, but it is instructive. If 
you prefer, the instructions can be given in another shape by 
borrowing and accommodating a figure which has been used else- 
where. You may put as soft a glove as you please upon the iron 
hand of power, but let all concerned know and feel the iron hand 
is there. A parent once, placing his son, an only child and deli- 
cate, too, with a teacher, gave him some account of him as an 
indulged and playful boy, "But," said he, "I govern him with my 
finger." The teacher did not find him an abject, broken-spirited, 
unhappy boy, but a cheerful, merry pupil. And yet he showed, 
that he was accustomed to prompt, cheerful obedience. 

Neither the family nor school should be a place of sadness or 
gloom, but it must be a place where one will reign supreme and 
where unanswering and unquestioning obedience is cheerfully 
rendered, for the very reason that it is not obtrusively and form- 
ally demanded. That point, being clearly and beyond all pos- 
sibility of mistake understood, these relations allow a wide field 
for the play of kindness and all the amenities of life. This sub- 
ject, unfortunately, has come to be treated as a subject for ridicule 
or satire, but this is only another proof of how far we have 
drifted in the wrong direction. We frequently hear the remark 
made with regard to a parent, "He will suffer for his negligence 
in bringing up his children," but we often forget that society will 
suffer too. We too often look upon it is a domestic blunder 
instead of viewing it as a grave public evil. The transition, from 
being an undisciplined son to becoming an unruly and dangerous 
citizen, is easy and natural. A feeble, inefficient father cannot 
be a good citizen. He is nurturing, in his disorderly home, the 
very seeds of all anarchy and insubordination. He is allowing to 
grow up, around his turbulent fireside, those who will not only 
be allowed in the just compensation of a watchful Providence 
to tear the scepter from his feeble hands and trample his crown 
under their feet, but will rush out to shake terribly the frame- 
work of society. In the graphic sketch, which inspiration gives 
of the perilous times which shall mark the latter days, disobe- 
dience to parents is prominent. 



72 Addresses 

Wliat does this mean? Nothing? Was that an unmeaning 
stroke of Paul's masterly pen? All the educational institutions 
of society, beginning with the family, which is first in time and 
influence, are happily adapted to prepare the young for the priv- 
ileges and amenities of manhood and citizenship, if we avail 
ourselves of them, to teach thoroughly the great lesson of 
supremacy of duty and obedience. Next to the truth which 
reveals to your child his own immortality, tell him that truth. 
Let his earliest instructions be turned mechanically around it, 
until his refined intellect can grasp it. Let it become imbedded 
among the most sacred principles of his nature. Let it grow with 
his growth. Let it be written as with a pen of iron upon the 
public mind of our country, if not too late, that obedience to law 
is man's highest privilege, intelligent, cheerful submission to just 
authority his noblest prerogative. Our country has much to fear 
from the opposite spirit, whether it exists modified and restrained 
among the educated classes, or finds its natural and legitimate 
development among the lower classes, who raise their terrific cry 
for liberty when they mean only bread and freedom from all 
restraint. We might show, too, the importance of the lesson to 
individual happiness. It is perhaps on this, as a trembling pivot, 
that the destiny of every human being turns. Shall I rule myself 
or obey the will of another? It seems an humble beginning 
when a child learns to tremble at a father's frown or obey the 
uplifted finger of a mother. But it is the first lesson which Prov- 
idence intended him to learn and one which he may practice, in 
its manifold applications, through life. Let him learn submis- 
sion then, and he will be j^repared to listen to the utterances from 
that Throne which is the source of all authority and reverently 
say, "Speak, thy servant heareth." 

This is a point, then, on which the teacher in the schoolhouse 
and the parent at home should give forth no divided or uncertain 
sound. No hasty partial statement should lead the parent into a 
harsh criticism on any regulation or act of the teacher. Even 
with reference to the teacher's superiors, those at whose will he 
holds his office, your intelligent board of trustees will unite in 



J. H, Carlisle 73 

the declaration made by a distinguished teacher in England, 
"Gentlemen, dismiss me if you please, but don't interfere with 
me." 

Many teachers have sent a circular letter to patrons empha- 
sizing the following points : 

"Importance of punctual attendance. 

"Encourage jDupils to obey rules of the school. 

"Encourage children to regard order and to do right. 

"Manifest an interest in the studies of your children," etc. 

If, in view of all these requirements we make of parents, one 
should bring up the old excuse, "We have not time to attend to 
all this," we could only repeat the old answer, "You must take 
time." Or will you prefer to take the j)osition that the Creator 
has clothed you with the inalienable, untransferable obligations 
of a i^arent and yet withheld from you the means of discharging 
them? A parent should feel this to be his life work. Nor is 
poverty any excuse for not attending to it, but rather an addi- 
tional reason for doing so. There are living proofs of the truth 
that no parent need despair of giving his child the best education 
the country can afford, if he only is determined to give and his 
son to receive it. Everett says that it is as foolish and short- 
sighted as being too poor to "spare seed corn." But, even if you 
cannot give him what is called an education, you need not send 
out an ignorant and undisciplined son. Teach him the great 
lesson of submission to divine and human law, teach him so that 
when the trjdng hour comes you can say to society, "Take him, 
he will be as faithful to you as he has been to me." And if you 
have nothing to give him but your vellum family Bible and your 
blessing, that will do. Society will find use for your boy. 
Society will give him work to do. If we could tell to what extent 
the parents and patrons of these schools feel the importance of 
these things, we could tell, in advance, what difficulty or what 
help these teachers will find before them. Taking for granted 
that these neat and commodious buildings are an indication of the 
public opinion of this neighborhood, our friends may surely 
expect largely all the sympathy and co-operation of whatever 



74 Addresses 

kind they may need. They will, of course, feel the anxious cares, 
the moments of dejection and despondency which all who labor 
for others must feel. When the pomp and circumstance of the 
day shall have passed and the common daily toil, the regularly 
recurring duties of the school commence, they will feel hours of 
languor and of oppressive cares. But may I not pledge to them 
from you the active interest which a Christian community must 
feel in the education of the young ? 

Let me ask you, pupils, the plain, simple question, Do you wish 
this to be a good school? Whether your teachers, trustees and 
parents can make it a good school without your help I will not 
say. I will say, however, they can make it more easily with your 
help. The boys, even our country ones, are fond of talking about 
their rights. Yes, you all have rights. You all have the right 
to be kept from ruining yourselves. When young, you asked for 
a razor. There are many things as dangerous as that which you 
are ignorant of. You have the right to be kept from them. You 
have the right to the help of your parents in controlling your 
natural temper and feelings. But there are some things which, 
though you are young American white boys, you have no right to 
at all. You have no right to cause your father one anxious hour. 
You have no right to make your mother blush or shed one tear 
more for you. Your teachers will make rules. Obey them. 
Never ask whether Mr. Reid or Mr. Dennis is looking at you. 
That makes no difference. And then there are laws which your 
teacher did not make and cannot alter. They cannot excuse you, 
because they have to obey them as well as you. Of course you 
will try to obey these. Let all the neighbors around be able to 
say that the pupils here are quiet, truthful and orderly. Let 
everything around, let these very walls, remaining from year to 
year in their present cleanliness, bear witness that this is the 
home of thoughtfulness, innocence and purity. Let all the 
patrons and friends of these schools see clearly that their liber- 
ality and care are well bestowed. In a word, let your days here 
be spent in cheerful, happy industry. Let no day write anything 
against you, as a boy or girl, which it will make you blush as a 



J. H. Carlisle 75 

man or woman to think of or remember. A few years will hurry 
you out into life. You will occasionally meet each other as men. 
You will be glad to stop for a moment and clasp the hand of an 
old classmate. Live and act so that none but pleasant recollec- 
tions will rush up from the memory when you meet hereafter, 
even when you wear gray hairs, one who can say, "We were 
schoolmates together at Reidville." 



76 Addresses 



AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE PRESTON AND 
CALHOUN SOCIETIES ON JULY IITH, 1860. 

The subject is '"''Some of the characteristics of the present age 
as illustrated hy the progress of Astronomy during the last few 
years.''"' 

To some of you it may be only a development or even a repeti- 
tion of what has already been suggested in the recitation room. 
To others it may not be entirely without interest or profit to have 
some very familiar tendencies of the age illustrated by references 
to a study which the avocations of daily life, the exactions of 
business, have kept them from pursuing. 

1. It is an age of restless activity of mind. This trite remark 
can be proved as clearly by the current history of astronomy as 
by any other department of human effort. There was a time 
when the same textbook and even the same edition would serve 
successive classes or generations. But it is so no longer. The 
number of planets discovered during the college course of this 
graduating class is more than twace as great as the whole number 
of primary planets known at the end of the eighteenth century. 
On the last day of the last century only seven primary planets 
were known. On the first night in the present century (as if to 
signalize this as the century of astronomical discovery) one more 
was discovered. Soon several others were added, and then came 
a rest for many years. In 1845 the spirit of discovery awoke 
again and scarcely a year has passed since then without the 
addition of several, nine in less than a year. Within the last 
four years, seventeen have been discovered. This one fact will 
prove the assertion with which we began. True, all these planets 
are small, but they are as really satellites of our sun as the earth 
or Jupiter. They do not glare on us from the skies so as to force 
themselves on our careless gaze. They lie among the hidden paths 
of the heavenly fields and require the closest scrutiny to draw 
them from their secret haunts. To this may be added facts of a 



J. H. Carlisle T7 

more general nature. We are more familiar with scientific expe- 
ditions than ever before. Some are avowedly astronomical, as 
the Chili expedition, undertaken to throw light on an important 
numerical quantity (Suns Pard'x) in astronomy, which being 
increased or diminished alters proportionately the estimated 
distances of all the planets from the sun, and has been quoted 
without change from one astronomical work to another since 17G9, 
An opportunity similar to that which furnished it then, will not 
occur for several years to come. Our scientific men proposed it 
to congress as something worthy of our new and growing country. 
The result has not changed materially this important item in all 
astronomical calculations, but it has confirmed it by a new and 
independent train of investigation. There are other expeditions 
which, though not exclusively astronomical, have contributed 
directly and indirectly to the science. The Japan expedition 
(which is just beginning to bear fruit in the remarkable visit of 
the Japanese embassy) was chiefly commercial in its character, 
but a most peculiar and interesting contribution to astronomy 
was made by one of the party. In the rolls of the Smithsonian 
Reports, as well as in the annual course of lectures under the 
same direction, there is abundant proof that varied and exciting 
as are the subjects which occupy the minds of our people, the 
oldest science is neither exhausted nor forgotten. 

(2) It is an age when subjects are thoroughly examined. We 
do not mean to provoke a discussion with those who mourn over 
the superficial knowledge of the times. There may be more suj^er- 
ficial knowledge than ever before. There is also more knowledge 
which is not superficial but thorough and profound. Many illus- 
trations could be given of this. The discovery of Neptune, '46, 
will readily occur to all as an event which could not have hap- 
pened in an age pre-eminently superficial. For several years 
suspicions had been entertained that an undiscovered world lay 
beyond the orbit of Uranus. The foundation for these suspicions 
may be stated in very simple language. Stripped of scientific 
dignity and precision it is about this. Uranus did not come up 
to the schedule time. He was tardy. He did not travel as fast 



78 Addresses 

as the books and calculations all said he ought to travel. When 
questioned about it he could only answer in a very confused and 
unsatisfactory manner that he was waylaid and hindered at some 
part of his journey. The suspicion arose that some new or 
unknown world was near enough at some part of the course to 
impede his progress by the all-pervading law of attraction. The 
problem then was, such effects being observed, what causes are 
competent to produce them? Or, in other words, w^hat is the 
size, weight, orbit and present position of a world which would 
produce such effects as we see are produced on another neighbor- 
ing world as large as Uranus is known to be? We can all see 
this is a difficult problem, how difficult none of us know, but the 
knowledge and boldness of the age were up to the demands of the 
occasion. Two astronomers, one in France and one in England, 
unknown to each other, attempted it, and both, with some quali- 
fications, may be said to have succeeded. The French astronomer 
wrote to a friend in Germany substantially thus, "You are better 
situated just now than I am, try it; turn your telescope to such 
a quarter of the heaven and you will probably find a planet." 
Wednesday, 23d September, 1846, he did so and there within less 
than one degree was a new planet almost exactly the size of the 
calculated and predicted one. The same triumph of scientific 
discovery has just been repeated, though under circumstances less 
startling and picturesque, at the other extreme of our system. 
Mercury has been detected in some irregular movements not fully 
explained by any known cause. The same suggestion was thrown 
out about another planet, and a few months ago a French phy- 
sician announced the discovery of a new interior planet. Another 
illustration will serve to show the extreme refinement and 
accuracy of modern science. A question which astronomers have 
been revolving with a degree of anxiety and interest which we 
cannot appreciate is, "How far is it to the stars?" A simple 
question truly, and one which has occurerd to many a child when 
viewing the skies at night, but if answered at all it has only 
been in our day. The difficulty does not consist in the fact that 
we cannot reach them, and carry the surveyor's chain or meas- 



J. H. Carlisle 79 

uring rod all over the intervening space. Elementary mathe- 
matics can teach us to measure an object precisely without this. 
Suppose we wish to measure the distance to the church on the 
neighboring hill. We simply measure a line, of any convenient 
length and direction, and at each end we measure the angle 
contained between that line and an imaginary line drawn to the 
church. With these data, one side and two angles, we can cal- 
culate either one or both of these imaginary lines. Suppose, now, 
the church to be removed thrice the distance, ten times the dis- 
tance, one hundred times the distance, this makes no difference, 
the only difficulty which arises is when the church is so far 
removed that our measured line bears no appreciable ratio to its 
distance, it then forms what the books call an ill-conditioned 
triangle. Suppose, for example, you lay down a foot rule and 
measure the angle at each end of the church, that would be an 
ill-conditioned triangle and would require very accurate measure- 
ment to avoid gross error. Now, this is precisely the way, and 
the only way, by which distances of the heavenly bodies are 
measured. So it is very obvious that to find the exact length of 
a line which you can not literally measure, you must throw it into 
some known relation to a line which you can thus measure. Now, 
in the case of the nearest heavenly bodies, the moon and planets, 
there is no difficulty. The known line is the diameter of the 
globe in round numbers 8,000 miles. Two persons on opposite 
sides of the earth take observations and furnish data. But try 
the nearest fixed star and even with this, the triangle, of which 
one side is the distance of the star and the other the diameter 
of the world, becomes enormously, I had almost said ludicrously, 
disproportionated — ill-conditioned. But there is another resource 
left us. We are now in a position in space distant from that we 
occupied in space six months ago by the diameter of the earth's 
orbit 190 millions of miles. This immense line may be assumed 
as the base. The astronomer can take his measurements at one 
end and quietly wait until he and his world are carried to the 
other end. But even that line makes too ill-conditioned a triangle, 
it cannot be easily measured. It is about as ill-conditioned as if 



80 Addresses 

you should close one eye and view an object about five miles 
distant, without moving your head and then close that eye and 
opening the other view the same object and attempt to measure 
the displacement of the object when thus viewed ; that is to say, 
the distance between your eyes is as large when compared to five 
miles as this base line of 190 millions is when compared to the 
nearest star which will shine on you tonight. And yet the dis- 
tances of ten or twelve stars have been measured with a very 
close approximation to truth. They are generally expressed in 
the time wdiich light, speeding in with the terrific velocity with 
which it is known to move, would take to travel. For example, 
it would take light three or four years to travel from the nearest 
fixed star to the earth. Go out tonight and look up at the North 
Star, the queer sailor star, as it will throw its mild light o'er land 
and ocean to guide the mariner and traveler tonight. And as you 
watch, remember that the ray of light which entering your eye 
enables you to see it, left the distant world before your birth. 
Some one said years ago, "If the eye when it fixes its gaze upon 
the vault of heaven could see in fancy a causeway arched across 
the void and bordered in long series wath the hills and plains of 
an earthly journey — repeated ten thousand and ten thousand 
times until ages were spent in the pilgrimage, then w^ould he who 
possessed such a power of vision, hide himself in caverns rather 
than venture to look up to the terrible magnitude of the starry 
skies, thus set out in parts before him." One other instance may 
be given. Mercury, being nearer the sun than our earth is, some- 
times comes immediately between us and that luminary. Two 
hundred years ago even, this phenomenon was recognized as a 
rare and interesting event, and all the resources of the science of 
that day were taxed to predict its return. They could not do so 
nearer than five days. One hundred years later the prediction 
came within as many hours. In 1846 Professor Michell went 
through the calculation of one expected that year and the predic- 
tion was true with an error of sixteen seconds, one-fourth of a 
minute. The great comet so memorable in the history of Charles 
V three centuries ago is now due. From defects in the best obser- 



J. H. Carlisle 81 

vation possible then, his orbit can only be approximately pre- 
dicted. We believe no first-rate astronomer has ventured to 
predict it nearer than August, 1858, with a possible margin of 
two years either way. This time has almost expired. We may 
confidently say that when it does come it will be saluted and 
catechised as never stranger was before. 

(3) This is an age when mechanical skill and scientific culture 
are comhined to an unusual extent^ the hands as well as minds 
of men are educated to a degree of precision almost incredible. 
Time was when the astronomer was compelled to grind his own 
glasses and divide his own instrument because he was in advance 
of the mechanic arts. It is not so now to any great extent. At 
the Crystal Palace in New York a few years since was an humble 
instrument called Wliitworth's measuring instrument. It was 
intended to measure, and in the opinion of competent and critical 
judges did measure, the one millionth of an inch. One serious 
difficulty in mathematical education is the fatal facility with 
which we speak of numbers, without any intelligent effort to 
grasp their meaning. Few men have any conception of a million, 
and, of course, few can approach any conception of an inch 
divided into a million parts. Let us seek the help of a simple 
illustration or two. One million inches make something over 
fifteen miles. Now, imagine a line fifteen miles long. At one end 
of it place a line one inch long. A¥hen we speak of a line one- 
millionth of an inch long we speak of a line as much shorter than 
the inch line as it is shorter than the fifteen-mile line. Or, again, 
the thinnest sheet of printing paper is more than 2,000 times 
^;^^L__inch in thickness. 

You have met the famous saying of Brougham that all the 
apparatus of the English government, queen, parliament, army, 
navy and all were intended only to shut up twelve men in a jury 
box. With less exaggeration it may be said that all the triumphs 
of astronomy, all the array of instruments in Greenwich observa- 
tory are intended to measure exceedingly small spaces of distance 
and portions of time. And to this exquisite problem the brute 
creation unconsciously contributed. The astronomer needs an 

6— c. A. 



82 Addresses 

exceedingly fine thread to mark the precise middle line of the 
field of his view. The finest silk thread when placed under the 
high magnifying powers of a telescope, becomes too gross and 
coarse in appearance. That which man in all his pride of intel- 
lect and cunning of hand cannot make, a thread sufficiently fine 
and yet uniform and strong, is made by the contemptible spider. 
A spider web is the favorite resource of the astronomer for pur- 
poses of delicate measurements. The problem to measure exceed- 
ingly minute portions of time will be noticed presently. 

(4) It is an age pre-eminently of 'practical utility. And it will 
excite no surprise to see this joined with a preceeding feature. 
Not only may the higher scientific culture be joined to the greatest 
and most direct utility, but these must be united. The highest 
result of science is indissolubly joined with the comforts or neces- 
sities of daily life. Agassiz some time ago in an address used 
this language : "Whenever in my researches I reach a stage when 
my labors may be taken up and made useful., I make it a rule to 
stop, as I know there will be no lack of laborers on that part of 
the field." Then spoke the man of science, whatever may be 
thought of the modesty of the remark. It is not so much this or 
that part of astronomy which illustrates this view, but the very 
existence of the sciences is a proof. When Newton undertook to 
give system to the science he was indebted to the seemingly idle 
and useless speculations of the ancient philosophers about the 
figures which can be cut from a cane. We may, remembering 
this, apply to astronomy the remark which has been made 
referring to chemistry as related to the dreaming of the Alchy- 
mist, "She is the wise daughter of a foolish mother." Some one 
showed Epecurius a sun-dial as an illustration of the utility of 
mathematics. "Admirable invention," said the sneering and 
shallow philosopher, "not to miss the hour of dinner." Now, 
even to have our uniform hour of dining is no contemptible or 
trifling achievement. The citizens of New York, for a year or 
two, have been discussing the importance, in a business, social 
and commercial point of view, of having a precise and uniform 
standard of time. Six weeks ago they inaugurated, or rather 



J. H. Carlisle 83 

furnished to astronomers the means to enable them to inaugurate 
the plan of a time ball. As a few minutes before 12 each day a 
large ball, six feet in diameter, is elevated to the top of a high 
pole on the custom house. Precisely at 12, as determined by the 
nicest measurement of the most accurate instrument in the hands 
of skilful observers, it drops, and by this signal the inhabitants 
of the city and vessels in the harbor adjust their time pieces. 
Imagine a bustling New York merchant who says, "There is no 
use in telescopes, observatories and astronomers. Just give me a 
noon ball to set my watch by, that is all I want." But the astron- 
omers and observatories and telescopes are all necessary to the 
punctual falling of the ball. And so there are men nearer than 
New York who feel, if they do not say, "What is the use of all 
this apparatus and all these instruments and observatories in the 
world? An almanac that cost me a few cents is all I want." 
Whatever your almanac may have cost you it cost the human 
race far more than that. The Chaldean shepherds had to watch 
the evening star as it threw its mild luster over their sleeping 
flocks, the biulders of the pyramids had to watch with baffled 
curiosity the stars as in the world's youth they shed their fresh 
light on the placid Nile or the barren sands. Thales and Pythag- 
orus and Archimedes and Euclid and Hipparchus have to shut 
themselves up from the curious and dilatory circles of their active 
mundane countrymen and spend long years in painful study or 
travel. The Arabian in the middle ages had to steal an hour 
from his wild rapture and gaze on the mysterious dance of the 
planets. Copernicus had to reconstruct the entire system of 
astronomy, and labor, upheld only by that self-sustaining energy 
which genius furnishes in its loneliness. Tycho Brahe, in his 
observatory on a rock in the Northern ocean, had to amass his 
volumes of observation, undisturbed by all the revolutions which 
shook Europe beneath him. Galileo had to stand on his watch- 
tower and lift his tube which opened to him visions of loveliness 
and grandeur which had greeted no human before, on which he 
gazed till 

"Blasted with excess of light, 
He closed his eyes in endless night." 



84 Addresses 

Kepler had to live through his wild and strange career as an 
astronomer persecuted and ridiculed, yet struggling in all the 
eagerness and intensity of a personal quarrel with Mars, to bind 
the eccentric and perfidious enemy in algebraic fetters. Newton 
had to gird up the powers of his mighty intellect and lead where 
but few in any one generation will ever follow him. Halley and 
Bradley and others had to retire to their observatories and spend 
their lives in silence, forgotten by their busy contemporaries who 
were gaining wealth and fame in the fields of labor. La Place and 
La Grange had to push their way through crowded and apparently 
conflicting ranks of algebraic formulas. All these and more had 
to live and labor before you could buy your almanac at any price. 
Until a few years since, every ship that left our shores had to 
be furnished with an English Nautical Almanac. But about 1855 
our government published the first and they are now issued 
regularly. The American Almanac for several years, in addition 
to many things intended for the general reader and student, gave 
also some items intended to be used in observatories and on ship- 
board. The publishers expressed their regret that for all these 
they were indebted to English sources. In the Almanac for 
1860, for the first time, these are omitted and the reason assigned. 
There is no necessity now to continue them as our countrymen 
have a first-class Almanac of their own. And now the American 
sailor with Bowditch or Maury's work as his textbook, with the 
American Nautical Almanac on his table, with the sextant 
improved, if not invented, by an American, in his hand, and the 
lightning rod of Franklin protecting him, in the floating palace 
which American skill guided by American science has furnished, 
its keel laid with the heart of Southern oak, its mast of Northern 
pine, he "muses the Monarch of her peopled deck" equal to any 
emergency. 

(5) It is an age in which the union between the different 
sciences is rnore manifest than ever before. Almost every year 
furnishes some new illustration of the interchange of kind offices 
between this harmonious family. The two greatest and most 
original discoveries of the present day in astronomical science are 



J. H. Carlisle 85 

proofs of this, the one depending on a combination between the 
mysterious agent electricity and astronomy, the other showing 
an important contribution to the same science by the Daguerrian 
instrument. Until within the last few years the most successful 
way by which as astronomer could make sufficiently accurate 
observation on the stars was as follows. It may be necessary 
to remind some present that the telescopes which magnify the 
size, or rather diminish the apparent distance of the stars, also 
magnify the apparent motion. To the naked eye the stars seem 
to keep their fixed position almost for hours. But in the tele- 
scope, to adopt a singlar but expressive figure from Dr. Gardner, 
they seem like "golden bugs crawling along the sky with visible 
celerity." The astronomer wishes to note the exact instant when 
one passes over his head. He points his telescope upward, the 
central line being marked by the spider web technically called the 
wire. And to insure greater accuracy it was necessary to have 
several others on each side of this central one so that, by noting 
the passage over several an average result may be reached more 
likely to be correct than any single observation. The process was 
exceedingly intricate and involved a painful tax on mind and 
sense. When the star approached the field of view the astron- 
omer, glancing at his clock, notices the hour and minutes, and 
catching up the seconds continues to repeat them audibly coin- 
cident with the ticking of the clock as he gazes through the tele- 
scope, his ear intent to catch the second, and eye on star, mind 
alert. Suppose when he repeats 7 the star is one side of a wire, 
and when he repeats 8 it in on the other. He then mentally 
divides the whole space passed over in this second into tenths 
and then estimates the number of these on each side of the wire 
and there an approach was made to even tenths of a second. But 
as you may see even from this hurried description the tax on the 
nervous system was very great. Now, electricity has relieved 
the astronomer of a great part of this painful effort. By a 
mechanical contrivance, which we cannot describe here, a con- 
nection was formed between a common observatory clock and 
a battery, so that at every vibration, a circuit may be made or 



86 Addresses 

hroken^ suppose it to be made, then by means of a magnet instan- 
taneously formed, a dot may be made by an iron pen. We will 
quote one paragraph from Mitchell to recall a remark made a 
moment ago. He was seeking a thread to connect the pendulum 
with his machinery. "I found it next to impossible to get any 
material which would answer the purpose. So delicate had the 
wire to be that a single fiber or filament of silk, a single human 
hair, as fine as ever graced the head of a beautious maiden, was 
all too coarse for this purpose. It had not the requisite spring 
for such a delicate movement. At length I went again to my 
old friend the spider and asked him to aid me in the dilemma. I 
spun from him a web, which for three long years in every second 
of time was expanded and contracted and performed the mighty 
service of uniting literally the heavens with the earth." 

But suppose the connection formed, the clock vibrating seconds 
and at each vibration causing a dot to be made on a band of white 
paper, which unwinds regularly as in Morses' telegraph, an inch 
a second, time onto paper. You have only to suppose one other 
contrivance by which this circuit may be formed at any moment, 
even between the vibrations, and the astronomer may take his 
seat. He is not required to watch the seconds and keep their 
record, the machinery does that. He has only to watch the 
instant when the star is on the wire and touch a key, the record 
is instantaneously made. There on the paper (which he can 
measure any time afterwards) are the uniform dots an inch 
between them the dots to tell in what part of the second the 
phenomenon occurred. Time converted into space. He had only 
to measure with appropriate instrument the fraction of an inch 
on the paper, and he has the fractions of a second, so hundredths 
of a second are used every day in a working observatory. It 
required peculiar skill to note the passage of a star over five or 
seven wires and that could be done only for a short while, as the 
tension was too severe to be continued. Now the wires may be 
increased to twenty if desired and the observations continued 
almost indefinitely. Professor Mitchell says if one cannot 
measure below the tenth of a second, and drive our errors out of 



J. H. Carlisle 87 

the tenths into the hundredths, possibly into the thousandths, we 
may as well stop observing, for we have already rough data 
enough. "Electric clocks furnish time for a city or kingdom." 
The other original discovery of the last few years consists in the 
application of photography to astronomical purposes. Attempts 
were early made to obtain pictures of sun and moon eclipses and 
these were to some extent valuable. But quite recently another 
application of the Daguerrean invention has been attempted with 
a very remarkable degree of success. A very numerous and 
important class of heavenly bodies are double stars, some to the 
naked eye and many more to the telescope. It has been considered 
of very great interest to astronomy to measure the angular dis- 
tances between them. This delicate and important problem has 
been very greatly aided by fixing their images on a sensitive plate 
which preserves the permanent record to be consulted and 
remeasured as often as may be desired. The great superiority 
of this method consists in the rapidity with which observations 
can be taken and their correctness, compared to the older methods. 
Many observations even hundreds can be taken at once as well as 
a single one, and their work night after night or weeks or months 
may be condensed into a few seconds. And it is estimated that 
one observation taken thus is worth, for correctness and precision, 
three taken in the usual method. This method has been success- 
fully applied to stars of the fifth magnitude. If it can be 
extended to smaller stars, the field of rich and useful results will 
be almost indefinitely expanded. This depends on the degree of 
sensitiveness to which the Daguerrean plate can be carried. Here, 
then, is a most striking instance of a dependence between arts 
and sciences apparently unconnected. Any decided improvement 
now in preparing sensitive plates in the laboratory or Daguerrean 
room, would instantly enlarge the whole field of astronomical 
research. 

It is an age in which the tendency of science to unite men and 
nations is more manifest than at any previous time. We say this 
tendency of science to what extent this union has already taken 
place is quite another question, it may be prevented by other 



88 Addresses 

causes, such as the intense competitions among modern nations for 
commerce and empire. 

Not a number of the Smithsonian Reports which does not 
return thanks to some steamship or railroad company for the 
free passage of men or instruments or to some country of Europe 
for offering free passage through the custom house of books or 
packages intended for scientific associations. Two little items 
from the newspapers of the present year will illustrate the same 
remark. One is an invitation from the Spanish "Eoyal Observer" 
to the nations of the earth who may wish to visit Spain for the 
purpose of observing the eclipse predicted in this month which 
passes almost centrally on that country. Fifty-four years ago an 
eclipse, of which this is the third return, took place. The nations 
of Southern Europe were at war. It was very soon after that 
the English army had in haste and retreat to bury a beloved com- 
mander without time to prepare a useless coffin, laying him in an 
enemy's soil with only his martial cloak around him. Now 
Spain invites the nations of the earth to visit her soil for a 
different object, to raise their astronomical breastwork on her 
olive-crowned hills and together push their conquest among the 
stars. The English minister resident at Washington has given 
public permission to our officers stationed along the sources of the 
Missouri to pass over into the British possessions for the same 
purpose. That is precisely the same line across which the Lion 
and the Eagle were exchanging glances. The stalwart young 
giant of the west was rambling along over his wide domains and 
it was said passed over the line, perhaps he was studying the 
stars too intently then, to notice an invisible line on the earth at 
his feet. The Lion told him, "I am monarch here." The absent- 
minded young hero, for he really did not mean any harm, was 
not unwilling to settle the difficulty peacably, claiming only the 
right to declare most positively, that if he did want to extend his 
walk in that direction all the monarchs in Europe could not 
hinder him. That cloud has passed and now the bold Englishman 
sends his invitation. "There is a fine spot on my plantation to 
observe a remarkable phenomenon, I will share my standpoint 



J. H. Carlisle 89 

with you, come let us study it together, I will not take any 
revenue from a brother philosopher." Almost every year, espe- 
cially in our country, are munificent bequests made by individuals 
to science. Many present can remember when there was not an 
observatory worthy the name in all our nation. Now, in addition 
to several first-class ones which compare with any in the world, 
there is a score of private ones. A lady in Albany, Blandina 
Dudley, has given at different times more than $76,000 to an 
observatory. A few days ago the papers announced a present to 
Yale College of a valuable spot for the erection of one. 

The study of astronomy is becoming more popular. The 
demand for textbooks is increasing. The newspapers publish 
more astronomical items, showing an increasing circle of intel- 
ligent readers. The publication of almanacs has grown to be a 
distinct and large branch of literature. We have spoken of those 
of higher pretensions, we allude now to the more popular ones. 
The different denominations make this the vehicle of dissemi- 
nating interesting statistics to their people. These are worth to 
any christian family ten-fold their cost, if only to supplant the 
coarse and vulgarizing comic almanacs of our childhood. And 
shrewd business men have availed themselves of the American 
custom of every man having his almanac to cry their wares 
along with the music of the spheres. The almanac now serves 
purposes of which Newton and Halley never dreamed. The same 
page will now tell you exactly at what moment Jupiter rises or 
sets, and where Peter's Vegetable pills can be bought from the 
only authorized agent. And yet by a strange contrariety of effect, 
the very diffusion of astronomical helps prevents many from 
knowing anything about astronomy. It is so easy to refer to the 
almanac and learn the age or place of the moon we do not watch 
it ourselves. It is so easy to consult the watch or clock we have 
ceased to notice the sun or stars. It is not uncommon (though 
it surely should be) to find boys in intelligent families, who have 
finished their academic course, who do not know the North star. 
A lively French writer says, "Were I the ruler of an empire I 
would have the alarm bell rung every night as a signal for my 



90 Addresses 

people to get out and look at the stars." Even that desperate 
remedy would fail in a great measure here. 

So startling are the announcements of astronomy few could 
even possibly receive them as true, but for the indisputable fact 
that predictions founded on them are verified by the result. 
There is something sublime even in the common prediction of an 
eclipse. Have you ever tried to realize the scene? It is often a 
fascinating but useless employment to form pictures of things 
as they do not exist. But this is the more difficult and useful 
task of imagining things as they do exist. Suppose we could 
suspend at will the mysterious force by which the earth chains 
us to its surface, and leave it, until we were so distant that we 
could see the earth at a glance as a round globe, rushing on with 
rapid but noiseless flight. As it turns successively this side and 
that to the sun it is bathed in light, and its teeming millions 
"wake up and spend the hours in the stir and bustle of active life 
and sink again to sleep and dreams. Near it is a small attendant 
world, which does obeisance to it by revolving around it in their 
onward march. Each of these, of course, is light on the side 
nearest the great sun, and in the opposite direction each casts its 
shadow of many thousand miles in length. As we watch this 
beautiful and wonderful mechanism the moon seems to be passing 
directly between the earth and sun. We almost tremble to see 
its shadow threaten to fall on the luminous side of the larger 
world. But it does lie right in its path. A sombre shade, a 
twilight gloom, gradually spreads and darkens until it rests like 
a funeral pall on a large part of the surface of the earth. It 
reaches a crowded island, or a populous nation. The startled 
inhabitants look up with a feeling of insecurity and dread. 
Monarchs and people, warriors and maidens, parent and child 
are alike helpless in the general consternation. In dumb despair 
or joining with the beasts of the field in frantic cries, they spend 
the few but tardy moments which measure the duration of this 
unnatural darkness. And with what thrilling and tumultuous 
joy do they greet the first direct ray which glides from the 
retreating moon and kisses the earth again, the joyful messenger 



J. H. Carlisle 91 

from heaven to assure them nature has returned to her usual 
course. The shadow reaches another and neighboring province. 
The inhabitants there, men of like passions with the others, with 
kindred endowments and capacities, are not startled. They are 
subdued into thoughtfulness or even seriousness as is meet, but 
not surprised. They expected it, they could tell, and did tell 
before hand, when it would come, they had even marked its 
course. "The total eclipse will first strike the earth in the Pacific 
Ocean off the mouth of the Columbia River. It will cross Wash- 
ington Territory in a direction nearly E. N. E., pass through 
Hudson Bay, crossing over the Atlantic Ocean; it will incline 
south, striking the coast of Spain south of Bay of Biscay ; cross- 
ing Spain in S. E. direction, it will strike the coast of Africa in 
Algeria, and passing along its northern shore leave the earth in 
Nubia near the Red Sea." 

Such was the course they had marked out for it, and many 
had gone tedious and perilous journeys not to avoid it, but to 
plant themselves in its path to study it minutely. And did those 
small, frail beings, who could not be seen half a dozen miles from 
earth, no one of whom had ever seen one thousandeth part of the 
earth's surface at once, weigh and measure the earth, detect its 
secret motion, and count the number of miles it dashed along its 
trackless pathway eveiy second, and foresee at what tick of the 
watch the earth would plunge into the dark shadow which lay 
hundreds of thousands of miles distant when they made the cal- 
culations? "What a piece pf workmanship is man." And yet 
what a strange combination of ignorance and wisdom. He who 
can tell all these wonders and go through all the toil and expense 
to study an eclipse cannot tell one hour beforehand whether 
some flying clouds may pass over his head and render all his 
preparation entirely useless. He who can tell the position of 
Mars or Jupiter or the moon one hundred years hence cannot 
tell when hailstorm or tornado will leave a town in ruin, whether 
an untimely frost this fall may not blast the hopes of the hus- 
bandman and threaten the nations with famine and poverty. 



92 Addresses 

cannot even tell what will be the condition of his own body 
tomorrow. 

Young Gentlemen of the Preston and Calhoun Societies: I 
gladly embrace an opportunity to express, thus publicly, the 
estimate we place on your societies as parts of our intellectual 
apparatus and furniture. We have seen their good results. We 
hope, and confidently expect to see them in an increasing degree, 
now that you have both passed through the dangers incident to 
a new organization, now that both have a comparatively large 
proportion of your membership, trained by several years of 
experience to excite and guide your intellectual life, now that you 
have all begun, it may be presumed, to study that lesson which 
Americans should begin early and continue learning all through 
life — the difference between freedom and lawlessness, whether 
in debate or personal intercourse with others. 

You bear two honored names. To both of which death and his- 
tory have now set their seals. See to it that no relative, no friend, 
no countryman ever has cause to blush at the association of his 
name with you as a society or as individuals. 

I see the Palmetto upon the breast of the admirer of Calhoun. 
Let him remember that to wear that historic symbol is at once a 
privilege and a responsibility. Whether it floats over the field 
of battle the sign of hope and triumph high, or whether it 
sparkles on the bosom of the thoughtful student his chosen badge 
of literary knighthood, it pledges him who adopts it, in the one 
cause or the other, to something elevated, generous, noble. 

The follower of Preston has embodied the high resolutions, 
the lofty purposes, the pure aspiration which stir his young 
bosom in the wreath and crown. Let him remember that these 
come only when the race has been finished, the battle manfully 
fought. 

May the one rest at last beneath the tree of life, and the other 
gain the wreath which is imperishable, the crown which fadeth 
not away. 



J. H. Carlisle 93 



ANNUAL ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE EDUCA- 
TIONAL INSTITUTE OF SOUTH CAROLINA, 
DECEMBER 21ST, 1870. 

:): 4: ^ 4: H: 4: 4: 

You will never, gentlemen, secure, as your anniversary orator, 
that "faultless monster," a schoolmaster of several years standing, 
who has no hobby. Yet, you will expect him to practice some self- 
denial. He will certainly abuse your kindness, if he avails him- 
self of this position, only to cry his own wares, or to advertise 
his own favorite haunts in the wide field of educational theories. 
At our first meeting, instead of trying to give any detailed or 
specific helps to the younger members of our body, you will 
perhaps allow me to take a wider range, and fill up the hour with 

SOME OF THE MISTAKES WHICH A YOUNG TEACHER MAY MAKE. 

He may overrate his professional influence. Coming to his work 
fresh from books, misled by vague and extravagant eulogies on 
education ; trained, perhaps, to feel a scorn for the practical side 
of life, he may naturally exaggerate the worth and power of intel- 
lectual culture. He may forget the obvious truth, that what a man 
hnows^ is one thing, while what he is, is quite another. Let him 
look through history, and in all the cemeteries of nations, he will 
not find a single tombstone with this inscription : "Here lie the 
remains of a nation which perished solely through lack of intel- 
lectual culture." Or, closing the printed volume, let him walk 
thoughtfully among his fellowmen. He will rarely find one who 
(to use a simple but expressive phrase) goes to ruin, simply 
because he does not know any better. If he will even hurriedly 
review the usual studies which enter into the academic course, 
he will make the same discovery. Grammar teaches the pupil 
to speak and write correctly, but words of unkindness, or 
impurity, or falsehood, may flow in grammatical precision from 
his lips. Geometry can show him many useful properties of lines 



94 Addresses 

and curves, but he may still wander widely from the curve of 
beauty in manners, or the line of duty in morals. Laden with 
all that mathematics can give him, he may plunge by the "curve 
of swiftest descent" to ruin. Even in moral science, there is, 
unfortunately, no necessary connection between theory and 
practice. All the maxims which Bishop Butler knew, may be 
safely lodged, not only in the memory but in the understanding, 
of the student. And yet they may be just as external to his real 
character, just as uninfluential, as they would be, if, printed in a 
book and worn in his breastpocket. Young Teachers, be warned 
and guarded at this point. Give your pupil a key to Davies' 
Arithmetic, and call him a mathematician if you will. Or give 
him a translation of Horace, and call him a linguist. But do not 
commit the equal blunder, and greater crime against society, to 
excite and train his intellect alone, and call him a fully-educated 
man. 

But the young teacher may even overrate his own individual 
power and influence. This, brethren, as you know, is one of the 
"easily besetting sins" of our profession. Our scholars cannot 
answer us back. We meet in daily life only those inferior to us, 
in wisdom, experience and strength. We are subjected, in no 
small degree, to the danger besetting the ruler who has uncon- 
tradicted power. The popular idea of a schoolmaster, as embodied 
in many a ludicrous page of fiction, shows him to us, as a dog- 
matic, self-confident man, who cannot bring himself to utter the 
four simple words, "/ do not know.'''' He is a great man on little 
things, and a little man on great things. He is autocrat (despot, 
perhaps,) over his little subjects, for five days in the week, and 
a cipher among grown men through Saturday, Sunday and vaca- 
tions. He is an angular, "unlovable man," or perhaps the idea 
of manhood even, scarcely is necessary to the popular conception. 
He is a punctually working machine, constructed to secure certain 
results, to insure, for instance, that no verb ventures out without 
a well-mated nominative, etc. 



J. H. Carlisle 95 

THE YOUNG TEACHER MAY UNDERRATE HIS OFFICE AND INFLUENCE. 

He may sink his round of duties into a mere bread-getting 
trade. His aims and achievements may be as entirely mechanical 
and characterless, as if he spent his time showing boys how to 
tie and untie curious knots in a string. And the popular estimate 
of his duties and office may confirm him in this mistake. A close 
observer has said that women have been too much flattered, and 
too little respected. Perhaps the same remark may be applied to 
teachers. Several easily-aj^plied tests will detect, in any com- 
munity, a want of earnestness in the popular theoretical estimate 
of the teacher's office. Men are tolerated in it by public sympathy 
and support, who would not be tolerated elsewhere. It has long 
been (and still is to too great a degree) the Botony Bay of other 
professions and trades. How readily it suggests itself to those 
who, by the practical criterion of success, are pronounced unfit 
to continue in other professions! Even the broken-down 
debauchee, who could not be entrusted with a pair of carriage- 
horses to take care of, has found friends who felt they were doing 
a benevolent act in getting a country school for him ! When his 
very presence is a ceaseless training to the pupils in coarseness, 
vulgarity, and vice ! Again, the want of sympathy from parents 
and citizens may help to lead the young teacher into this mistake. 
He sometimes feels an impulse, as he walks the crowded street, 
to raise his voice in a desperate effort to secure attention — "Ho, 
friends ! Stop a moment, I have something to say to you. If you 
had given me a dog to train, or a favorite colt to break for you, 
you would show some interast in the experiment. But I have 
your children, and you leave me alone." 

But the teacher must struggle against the natural and dis- 
heartening effect of all this. It may be fatal to all healthy, cheer- 
ful energy, or may even bring him down from the region of 
earnest, manly complaint or expostulation, to that of perpetual 
grumbling, or even whining. There are dangers besetting him, 
over which he has more direct control : 



96 Addresses 

he may fail to carry on his own improvement. 

He may be satisfied if he carelessly (not to say insincerely) 
urges others to a love of learning, while his own is at fault. He 
may indolently stand still, except when on rare occasions a ven- 
turesome "big boy" comes at his heels, and makes him move a 
little forward or sidewise, as the case may be. His life may be 
spent with a book in his hand, and yet he may have no love, 
original or acquired, for it. He may, literally, in his intellectual 
travels, illustrate Robert Hall's "perpetual motion without 
progress." His original stock of knowledge may have been large 
or small (these terms being wholly relative), but it may lack the 
vital element of growth. In geography, he may still look on all 
the region west of the Mississippi as a vast "desert inhabited by 
roving tribes of Indians and buffaloes." And his knowledge in 
other branches may be in fit proportion to this. His knowledge 
and character may want that generous air or flavor, which can 
come only from widening views of the proportions of truth. He 
may look around with satisfaction, or even complacency, at the 
small circle of light, when he should be gazing with awe and 
quickened aspirations, into the larger surrounding circle of dark- 
ness. Some teachers, thus, never become experienced in their 
daily round of duties. Experience, in any valuable sense, is not 
a physical or chronological attribute. It is not measured or con- 
ferred, by beats of the pendulum, or by lapse of time. It comes 
from the kind, and amount of earnestness, sympathy, and life, 
which we throw into our common successes and failures. With- 
out this, gray hairs may find the inexperienced veteran still 
"dropping his bucket into empty wells." 

But this improvement does not only consist in mental growth. 
It implies growth in character as well. Bacon somewhere says, 
the man who does not take pains to improve his character, is like 
the laborer who never stops to whet his scythe. 

My brother teacher, is this the reason why you and I have 
spent many a fruitless day in the schoolroom, feebly swinging 
around our dulled and blunted scythes, trampling down a field 
white for the harvest, yet gathering few sheaves for all our toil ? 



J. H. Carlisle 97 

The teacher must struggle against many enfeebling and unfor- 
tunate surroundings in this respect. In some points of view our 
position is not favorable to the cultivation of a broad, symmetrical 
character. We have not the needful pressure and discipline 
which comes from attrition and collision with men. We live in 
a theoretical world. We do not necessarily touch life in its pal- 
pable results. We are apt to be flattered by seeming successes, 
while we take no warning from real failures. We need then to 
keep alive the growth and freshness of our minds, by frequent 
inroads into new pastures. And that other part of our nature 
which is not merely intellectual, will be greatly benefited by 
habitual, unprofessional intercourse with some real want or 
interest of society. Dr. Arnold dreaded the possibility of his 
trying to quench the thirst of his pupils from a stagnant pool, 
instead of a flowing spring ! The teacher is expected to finish the 
education of successive classes, and boy generations, but his own 
must be still incomplete. It is an endless experiment, an unsatis- 
fied aspiration. He must, to the last, guard against mechanically 
urging others up a pathway, which has proved too barren or 
steep, to entice or retain his own footsteps. Let him beware of 
solemnly exacting growth, system, fidelity, in his schoolroom, 
while stagnation, confusion, and anarchy reign in his own bosom. 

THE TEACHER IS IN DANGER OF TRUSTING TOO MUCH TO THE 
MACHINERY OF EDUCATION. 

The term machinery is often applied to the apparatus and 
helps which are resorted to for the purpose of extending the 
efficiency of educational plans. Thus used, the term is convenient 
and useful, but dangerous. A school furnished with all needful 
appliances — house, teacher, trustees, furniture, and apparatus — 
is not a loaded cannon, which a child, or a coward, can discharge 
with as much efficiency as a giant. It is rather an arrow, which, 
however keen and well feathered, can have no force which did 
not, in some shape, slumber in the arm that sent it. All educa- 
tional schemes must be w^orked by living force. And perhaps this 
cannot be done without an earnest and real, even painful, expen- 

7— C. A. 



98 Addresses 

diture of effort. Let the following, taken from several earnest 
thinkers and workers of our day, be suggestive : 

"The common expression, 'the luxury of doing good,' is founded 
on a mistake." 

"Whoever would remedy misery must himself suffer." 

"To touch the substantial miseries of degenerate man, is to come 
within the infection of infinite sorrow." 

Robertson, of Brighton, was mortified when his hearers con- 
descended to praise him. He said, "Here am I, spending my 
heart's blood to be the religious teacher of this people, and they 
praise me as a pleasant speaker!" 

And Ruskin seems to approach the same great truth from a 
different direction, when he says, "We continually talk of taking 
up our cross, as if the mischief of a cross was its weight — as if it 
was only a thing to be carried, instead of to be crucified on !" 

Do these utterances offend or startle any teacher? Why should 
they ? Unless we are trying to rise into this region of effort and 
achievement, our daily business is a commonplace trade, a sleight 
of hand, as unmeaning as if we were drilling monkeys or training 
parrots. 

THE TEACHER IS IN DANGER OF BEING MISLED BY HIS OWN ASSOCIA- 
TIONS AND PREJUDICES IN HIS WORK. 

The relative claims of the scientific and classical courses have 
been fully discussed of late. Perhaps every candid man, who has 
been able to keep abreast with these discussions, will admit that 
his original opinion (whatever it may have been) has been some- 
what modified, even if it has been confirmed in the main. No 
attempt will be made now to give an opinion, or to sum up the 
arguments on both sides. Up to a certain point (but on the pre- 
cise location of that point turns the whole controversy), you need 
not inquire what trade or calling your pupil intends to follow. 
He ought to be educated not simply or chiefly because he intends 
to be a farmer, lawyer, or statesman, but because he is a human 
being, with capacities and powers, with inlets of joy, with possi- 
bilities of effort and action which no trade or calling can satisfy 



J. H. Carlisle 99 

or exhaust. An educated mind is not (or should not be) an 
implement fitted to this shop or that office. It is a power which 
can be readily thrown into any required shape. And yet it is 
much easier here to see a part than the whole. It is very easy to 
declaim against utilitarianism, but who will advocate a system 
which has no utility in it ? Or, is any utility found in it, only an 
incidental and tolerated appendage, not entering at all into its 
merit or substance? Is an education to have no reference what- 
ever to the probability that the subject will live in America, 
Africa, or Jupiter? or whether he will probably live on air, 
manna, or bread earned in some honest calling? On the other 
hand, is the whole ground covered — are the highest demands of 
his nature met — when you have trained him to be a skillful day- 
laborer ? But there is no intention to go farther in this direction. 
Perhaps, in most cases, this question is practically decided by the 
age or resources of the pupil or the views of his parent, before 
the case reaches us. And perhaps, when not on avowedly con- 
troversial ground, all will freely admit that our education should 
be as thorough, as real and life-like, as possible. A student may 
have "finished geology," and yet not know the name or qualities 
of the rock on which he puts his foot to step from the recitation 
room. He may calculate an eclipse, and yet never gaze with 
intelligence at the star or planet which shines in his window every 
evening. He may have recited his history lessons perfectly, and 
yet any little freak of public opinion, as displayed in a village 
election, may take him completely by surprise. As was said of an 
English statesman, he may know man, yet be wholly ignorant of 
men. 

We just wish to go far enough here to impress upon the teacher 
one caution. Let him not rest satisfied to think that his course 
of studies is "eminently practical," or "admirably fitted to pre- 
pare pupils for business or life." To accomplish this, the style 
and spirit of your teaching are of more significance than the list 
of studies on your circular. The Digamma^ in the hands of one 
teacher, may be more suggestive and more practical, in every 
worthy sense, than the steam engine in another. 



100 Addresses 

Many years ago, an American boy of thirteen, one evening 
after dark, slipped a pair of spectacles from his uncle's pocket, 
and with boyish fun put them on, and went in the yard to look 
upward. That look made him an asti'onomer. He was near- 
sighted without knowing it, and until that moment the skies had 
always appeared in a confused glare of light. But the brilliant, 
well-defined points, which then met his eye, kindled a spirit 
which bore him through failing health, until, dying at tAventy- 
two, he left a name still quoted with honor in the records of 
astronomy. Your theoretical programme of studies in your school 
may be faultless, but has your pupil, by your help, ever swept 
around that clear, decisive, transforming gaze, which, as in a 
moment, may turn the aimless "getter of lessons" into the earnest, 
thirsty seeker after knowledge ? if so, it is not a question of prime 
importance to which particular point in the horizon his eyes were 
directed at the moment. Let it be the etymology of a Greek verb, 
which flashes light into his mind, or a mathematical formula, 
starting up as a thing of life before his eyes, a star above him, a 
rock or flower beneath him, or a sudden glance into the mysteries 
within him. 

If the leading educators of Christendom could agree with 
unanimity on a course of studies, as absolutely the best, or perfect, 
it would still be a work of time and toil and patience, with its 
help, to train the unobserving, impulsive boy, into a large-hearted, 
open-minded, clear-headed, keen-eyed, ready-handed, sure-footed 
man ! 

THE YOUNG TEACHER MAY FAIL IN PATIENCE. 

Many persons seem to have a low and even false conception of 
this trait. Some even consider it a cheap, commonplace, or con- 
temptible virtue, if that combination of words is at all allowable. 
Its etymology might teach them better. Patience is born in 
suffering. It does not mean or suggest a stagnant. Dead Sea of 
character, without waves, or currents, or depths. It implies strong 
powers and impulses, in earnest tension, but under quick control. 
An appeal to the exercise of patience is not a call to lay aside 
manhood and strength, but a summons to the completest display 



J. H. Carlisle 101 

of both. Have patience, then, with yourself ; not with any avowed 
vices or cherished weaknesses, but with your repeated failures, 
in the ceaseless and still renewed struggle after something higher 
and more satisfying in life. Have patience with your school. 
Your wish and purpose will far outrun your performances. The 
school actual, on Friday evening, will fall sadly below the school 
ideal of Monday morning. Have patience with your country. It 
has not yet passed the first stage of national growth, answering 
to the period of early life in individuals, when physical passions 
are strong and clamorous, while moral impulses are weak or fitful. 
Have patience with your Christendom, burdened, anxious, weary 
Chistendom. Have patience with your race, your wayward, for- 
getful, slow-learning race. Have patience (the remark is not 
irreverent) with your Maker, the Infinite Ruler of the universe. 
"Our noisy years," or centuries, are "but moments" in the slow 
unfolding of His stupendous plans. 

In your most thoughtful moments, you will not be able to attain 
to any worthy conceptions of the society, or the scenes in which 
your present pupils will be agents or sufferers. To fell these 
forests, or clothe these worn-out Atlantic slopes with new verdure, 
to tunnel these mountains, to bridge these rivers, and lay a tele- 
graphic cable on every ocean bed ; these, and tasks like these, with 
which poets and orators have made us familiar, will be the 
lightest problems which will meet the next generation. And 
these will most surely be done. Wants and demands like these 
insure their own fulfillment. There is no more cause for a serious 
fear that these will be' left undone, than there is to fear that the 
next generation of men will lose a great amount of money from 
inability to calculate interest on notes, or that they will lose a 
great amount of time while hunting about for New York and San 
Francisco, with too little geographical knowledge to find them 
easily. But there are other and far more formidable questions 
they must meet — questions which have been standing over for 
decision or solution for ages, gathering new complications with 
every year, "questions the ages break against in vain." Christen- 
dom, with many chronic ills so often slightly healed, is getting 



102 Addresses 

more and more restless, as a "strong man in his agony." The 
standard of physical comforts is rising more rapidly than the 
ability of unaided labor to procure them, bread becoming dearer 
and "human life cheaper" with every passing generation, the 
lines between grades and classes practically becoming more 
sharply drawn, crowds of empty-handed men rushing into life 
demanding food, clothing, shelter, and privileges, often clamorous 
for rights^ but with a feeble sense of right. From the Crystal 
Palace of Paris, a few years since, a polyglot assemblage sent up 
a hymn of thanksgiving in recognition of the universal brother- 
hood of man. On that spot tonight, old men, pale women, and 
little children are suffering the horrors of a siege. Just in the 
midst of great designs for the advance of science and social 
improvement of our race, "war stamps his red foot, and nations 
feel the shock ! " 

Lessons of history, gathered from the wrecks of perished 
empires, and quoted with equal fluency by schoolboys and sages, 
as undisputed maxims, have been received, applauded, and for- 
gotten, just when the historic moment struck when they ought to 
be applied. Must it be always so ? Will the disheartening maxim, 
"Experience is a light in the rear of a ship," be forever true? 
Must the vessel which carries all the precious stores, gathered in 
two thousand eventful years of Christian civilization and history, 
be forever entering into new seas, its stern lighted up with an 
appalling glare on shoals and breakers behind, while its prow cuts 
an impenetrable cloud? 

"They tell us, in the dreaming school, 

Of power from its dominion hurled ; 
When high and low with juster rule 

Shall share the altered world. 

"Alas ! since time itself began, 

That fable hath but fooled the hour! 

Each age that ripens power in man, 
But subjects man to power." 

Thus wrote Bulwer, the young poet. Will Bulwer, the aged 
statesman, tinge the lines with a more hopeful hue? 



J. H. Carlisle 103 

A traveler in Europe, a few years ago, said to a citizen, "There 
are only two subjects worth one hour's discussion — religion and 
politics — and your lips are sealed on both." There are important 
points connected with these vast subjects which cannot with 
propriety or profit be introduced here. Yet these far-reaching 
questions touch vitally our daily duties and employments in the 
schoolroom, and a few remarks may be given to each. 

Every one of our pupils is a responsible being. If that is true 
in any weighty or worthy sense, it points to a great fact in his 
history, and must color our intercourse with him. He is responsi- 
ble to whom? To history, posterity, or society? These judges 
are too weak, capricious, or remote to restrain him. Is he respon- 
sible to himself, or any part of himself? Then he, the same 
person, is judge, lawgiver, witness, culprit, and executioner, all 
in one ! That feature of education which treats of this responsi- 
bility (you may call it moral, ethical, or religious) is not an 
additional postcript, or supplementary chapter to the book, it is 
the style in which it is written. It is not an additional limb to 
the body — it is the life-blood. The education which entirely 
wants this feature is not only defective in degree, it is wrong in 
kind. It not only fails to gain a much desired point, but it 
reaches in the wrong direction. Among the solemn forms of law 
which are frequently degraded by familiarity, is the emphatic 
reminder, which our country utters to every evil-doer arraigned 
at her bar — "Not having the fear of God before thine eyes." Will 
the future historian of the Decline and Fall of the Great Amer- 
ican Republic ever have occasion to quote this? 

The word politics, in its better and historic sense, means the 
welfare of the state. To this no good citizen can be indifferent. 
There are periods in history, when the impulse is strong which 
urges a man to say, petulantly or desperately, "Let the country 
go to ruin, if it will let me alone." It may serve to answer, "It 
will not go to ruin and leave you alone. It will drag you with 
it." The following, quoted from a New York periodical, met my 
eyes, while preparing these pages: 



104 Addresses 

"To a young man, who expects to live and die an American, 
there are some aspects of our present condition that had better be 
studied on bright days and under cheerful circumstances. Plun- 
der is legalized with a facility that is encouraging to schemers. 
Marriage bonds are legally sundered with little cost to the 
promoter of the separation. Ordinary crime is a mere passing 
incident of city life, of which no one who knows the town makes 
much account, and murder is reduced to the minimum of risk to 
the ruffian. The reign of law is a good phrase in science and 
history, but it is a thing of memory. We live in an interregnum. 
Some sneer, some are indigant, some are discouraged, some are 
very sorry, some are unspeakably bitter, some discuss and medi- 
tate swift remedies. A man of good character and average 
sobriety stated to friends, the other day, his willingness to act on 
a committee to hang a judge, and he named his man." 

Now, you may take either view of such statements, and they are 
instructive and suggestive to us as citizens and teachers. Suppose 
them to be wholly false or largely exaggerated. 

Then they show the fearful extent to which the natural and 
common fault of intense and indiscriminate partisan accusation 
may go. This is one fatal effect of party zeal and rage. It leads 
to the use of habitually strong language, where there is no corre- 
sponding conviction or sentiment in the mind. It thus demoral- 
izes our daily language, stripping it of all sincerity or emphasis. 
And this must, by a sure and not tardy law, corrupt our estimates 
of acts and men, and palpable corruption in individual, social, 
and public life will follow. It has always been too common in 
free countries for parties to toss back and forth the grossest 
charges, when, perhaps, in neither, is there any real feeling of 
sadness or sympathy with a suffering country. If the gravest 
evils, which have been threatened or denounced by one party on 
the other in this country for eighty years, should, in their literal 
extent, fall on an ill-fated generation, they will, most probably, 
take by surprise the very men with whom it had been a life-long, 
commonplace habit to predict them. 

But let us take the other possible explanation of such state- 



J. H. Carlisle 105 

ments, which now form, unhappily, so large a portion of our 
current literature. Let us suppose they are not substantially 
exaggerated, but may represent, not unfairly, the condition of any 
portion of our country. They seem to show that a most 
unpleasant fact, often forgotten conveniently, or explained away, 
must soon be taken for granted, and provided for by parents, 
teachers, and law-makers, that is, human depravity. 

Even now you may often find in the correspondence and free 
communications of the wisest and least excitable statesmen of the 
leading nations of the earth, an undertone of seriousness, or even 
sadness. You will not err greatly if you understand it as a 
simple, frank apj^eal for help and light. ""Teachers of every class 
and kind, ministers, come and help us if you can. The truth is, 
our fellow-man has sadly disappointed us. We thought with the 
ballot-box, trial by jury, and habeas corpus^ he could take care 
of himself. We thought human depravity was an abstract 
question for theologians to quarrel over. We never dreamed that 
it would come in to spoil our fine political theories. But the truth 
is, human nature is fast becoming unmanageable. Come and help 
us if you can, for we are at our wits' end." 

Those who, thirty years hence, will correct, perpetuate, or 
intensify the evils supposed to exist in these representations, are 
now on the benches of your schools. Any evil passion which will 
then fearfully shake the frame-work of society, is now slumbering 
in a schoolboy. 

"Harness it down with iron bands, 
Be sure of your curb and rein !" 

Every pupil now untaught, or badly taught, adds one to fearful 
improbabilities against us. Remember that while education (if 
you will sufficiently enlarge and dignify the term) may save us 
from untold evils, eulogies on education never can. You cannot, 
of course, by anticipation or rehearsal, take your pupils through 
the crises and duties awaiting them, but you may do much to 
impart or strengthen the spirit, which will fit them for the 
future. They may live hereafter in a land of outward plenty. 



106 Addresses 

So teach them that they will not mistake plenty for prosperity, a 
voluminous census report for an inventory of happiness, the 
means of good living, for good living itself. Your pupil may live 
in an hour of sadness in his country's history. Let him know and 
exhibit, that there is nothing in common with the deep, sincere 
sorrow of the disappointed lover of his nation and race, and an 
outbreak of vulgar passion or mortification. Let him know that 
to the patriot, 

Grief should be like joy, majestic, equable, sedate, 
Confirming, strengthening, cleansing, making free, 
Strong to consume small troubles ! 

His life may be spent in a majority. Let him be so taught that 
he may avoid the dangers of uncontrolled power. If the desired 
prize of victory either by the ballot-box or the battlefield, is 
allotted to him, let him seek earnestly the rarer gift, the wisdom 
to know how far to press it. Let him rise to the elevation where 
he may say to his weaker antagonist, "I have disarmed you by 
force, I will conquer you by just and fair treatment." 

Or he may, in opinions, be in a minority. Let him know the 
privileges and responsibilities of his position there. Let him be 
able to say, "I cannot fawn, or cringe, or flatter. I will not mock, 
or curse, or revile. My maturist views of man and government, 
of history and society, must be completely reversed, before I can 
expect a just or stable government, with the measures you pro- 
pose. But I will trample under foot the base suggestion to madly 
hasten the ills which, I fear, are imminent. I may be a disap- 
pointed, even a wronged and outraged man. But I am not, there- 
fore, a reckless, frenzied man, willing to bury society in ruins, 
if I may but crush others with myself." 

He can learn to oppose, not in a personal, passionate spirit, but 
his opposition must be calm, strong, sincere, well-defined. And 
even if he lives in a historical crisis, where his country finds 
neither "strength in her arm, nor mercy in her woe," there remains 
to him, then, the last, and perhaps the noblest triumph of 
patriotism. Let him stand, calm in his own integrity, and "gaze 
on successful tyranny with an undazzled eye." 



J. H. Carlisle 107 

Let us teach the pupil by precept and example, if it may be, 
to be exacting on himself, yet lenient to others, pure, yet tolerant. 
For, one thing is certain. All shades and phases of opinions will 
be represented among our forty millions of citizens. Those who 
prefer a wide gauge on the railroads, and those who prefer the 
narrow gauge: the advocates of free trade, and the supporters of 
a tariff: the firm believer in universal suffrage, the believer in a 
modified suffrage, or in no suffrage: the conscientious upholder 
of the divine right of monarchs, the equally conscientious 
defender of the divine right of magistrates or masses: those who 
think it may be proper, after a while, to take on some ballast, 
when we have spread all our sails, and those who think "all sail 
and no ballast" is the very perfection of government, or that, 
by a happy compensation in political mechanics, the sails are the 
ballast: those to whom the year is one long Fourth of July, and 
those disposed to take more prosaic views of national duties and 
dangers : the young man who cannot be made to feel a fear, and 
the old man who can scarcely be induced to indulge a hope: all 
these must live together here. And they must do this without 
poisoning the well-springs of society, or bringing on a state of 
anarchy and lawlessness, where every man gazes defiantly or 
suspiciously in the face of his fellow. Can this be done? Are 
there moral forces, active or slumbering, in our modern society, 
sufficient to carry it safely through the strain now upon it ? That 
question, in some form, meets the thoughtful observer of life 
every hour in the day ! "He may be unwise who is sanguine, but 
he is unmanly, unpatriotic, and unchristian, who despairs." 

Let it be our constant aim, that every day spent in the recita- 
tion room may tend to furnish those results which the Prussian 
king demanded from his university — "Fruits, gentlemen, fruits 
IN the soundness of men." 



Note: See "Regrets of an Old Teacher." 



108 Addresses 



ADDRESS MADE BEFORE THE YOUNG LADIES OF THE 
WESLEYAN FEMALE COLLEGE, MACON, GA., 1875. 

Subject: "Let Your Life be Quiet," and "Let Y^our Quiet Life 
Leave Its Memorials." 

If you think of the word quiet as opposed to outward trouble, 
the maxim will seem strange or affected. It amounts to about 
this : Let your life be free from external troubles or alarms. Let 
your eyes see no painful sights. Let your ears hear no disturbing 
sounds. Y^ou may as reasonably hold out your text-book, and 
withdrawing your hand from it say, "Do not fall; stay quietly 
where I leave you." In any sense like this the maxim is unrea- 
sonable. Y''ou found it hard to study college lessons, on that day 
when the firebells of Macon were ringing, or when a crowded 
procession was filling your streets. Now, the firebell of America, 
of Chistendom, is ringing all the Avhile. A ceaseless, unbroken 
procession of life is hurrying past you without a pause. When 
your college course began. Central Europe was a vast war camp. 
The last few months of that course found the leading statesmen 
of Europe in anxious debate. The clouds of war are returning 
after the rain of fire. In vain, then, at the age of the world, 
when Christendom is tossing about restlessly as a sick man, when 
all the nations are perpetually in a strife which shall be greatest, 
in vain, may we say to any one entering life, "Let your life be 
quiet." While a quiet life in this sense may well be an object 
of aspiration or prayer, it cannot be the basis of a resolution. "I 
will lead a quiet life." This outward quietness we can only class 
with comfort and ease, contented to let them come or go, as heaven 
shall bid them. Quietness of spirit, hoAvever, is very different 
from quietness of surroundings. Quietness in its deeper sense, is 
not like the absence of outward troubles. It is an inward pos- 
session or state. It is not the mark of passive spirit. It is not 
something negative. It is not a tame, characterless temper. It 
is not the absence of energy. It is energy in its highest exercise. 



J. H. Carlisle 109 

It is not the lull or repose, or sleep of our highest powers, it is 
their sustained and harmonious tension. When reading those 
marvelous sentences which form the opening of the Sermon on 
the Mount, have you noticed that nearly all of those virtues and 
graces belong to that class which we often consider as passive or 
negative? Have you noticed that all these beatitudes may be 
worn by a schoolgirl, or an invalid, or a tenant of the poorhouse? 
This should rebuke and correct the mistake commonly made, of 
supposing these passive virtues or forces to be cheap and common- 
place. "Let your life be quiet," that does not mean, let it be 
passive, languid, barren in aspirations or achievements. Indeed, 
one of the most direct ways to lead a quiet life, will be to lead 
an intellectual life. This does not mean that you must continue 
to get daily lessons, though college graduates may profitably con- 
tinue these, more generally than they are supposed to do. A 
recent writer says, "The essence of an intellectual life does not 
reside in extent of science, or in perfection of expression, but in 
a constant iDreference for higher thoughts over lower thoughts, 
and this preference may be the habit of a mind, which has not 
any very considerable amount of information." Again he says, 
"It is the continual exercise of a firmly noble choice between the 
large truth and the lesser, between that which is perfectly just 
and that which falls a little short of justice." You see from these 
extracts that the intellectual life does not consist in large or 
habitual intercourse with books. Handling books, whether in the 
way of reading them or writing them, is not necessarily more 
intellectual employment than handling bricks. Intellectual life 
is an atmosphere which can be poured around the most common 
tasks or implements of daily duties. A young lady may be 
employed as intellectually in her round of home duties as her 
brother who is handling the books of any one of the so-called 
learned professions. This intellectual life may be said to consist 
in taking wise, calm, thoughtful views of life and history of 
human nature of your friends and your enemies, of your success 
and your failures. It consists in not being led away with pas- 
sionate first thoughts. It consists, farther, in having some per- 



110 Addresses 

sonal ownership over your own thoughts. Let them not be simply 
notions or repetitions of other people's thoughts. The plagiarist 
of other men's ideas or sentences is justly condemned. But there 
is a plagiarism of other people's opinions, which is just as fatal to 
individuality of character. A man may say a thing, not because 
he distinctly believes it on the one hand, or is deliberately insin- 
cere on the other, but because he knows, he feels he is expected 
to say it, and he yields to the vague pressure. A late writer speaks 
of a certain class of persons, w^ho go through an operation, which 
they are pleased to call, facetiously, perhaps, "making up their 
minds." Now this is a phrase which some persons have no right 
to use. There are currents and influences in our day which are 
not very favorable to an intellectual life. The daily newspapers, 
for example, you will find to be at once your greatest help and 
hindrance. We do not allude to the time which the newspapers 
consume, but the rapid, offhand, extemporaneous way in which 
a reader of the daily papers rushes through the trifling little 
operation just alluded to. It is alarming to think of the extent, 
variety and gravity of the questions which he must huriy over 
in his morning paper, perhaps while waiting for his coffee to 
cool on the breakfast table. Bismarck's policy, the complicated 
politics of central Europe, the Pope's health and wisdom, Glad- 
stone's last stroke, to say nothing of scores of questions nearer 
home, all must be received, and opinions reached, and mind made 
up on each. Now, it is possible for a reader to have an intelligent 
opinion on all these matters, but the average reader will most 
probably rush to the opinion and leave out the intelligence which 
should enter into it. You will carry from this place the alphabet 
of this intellectual life. It will be your painful work to form 
these letters into syllables, then syllables into words, then words 
into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs, and at last as the 
years roll on, the paragraphs may grow into a wise theory of life, 
of human life, its relations and surroundings, its connections and 
issues. Can you follow patiently this unattractive life, and see 
the haste and show and hear the loud but hollow laughter of those 
who never aspired to follow wisdom, or if they were forced, under 



J. H. Carlisle 111 

the drill of teachers and schools within her gates, soon left them 
for congenial crowds and enjoyments? You will pour contempt 
on that diploma, if your life is earthly, or material even, in its 
highest aim and scope. A little pamphlet "Religion in Common 
Life" has been widely circulated over our country. What you 
need is daily help in solving a problem second only in importance 
to the one suggested by that title, to bring intellect to bear on 
the events of common life. Aim in your measure at the plain 
living and high thinking which Wordsworth praised. Bring 
your trained mind at once to bear on the objects and events which 
daily life offers to your study. The pebble in your yard will 
invite you to study geology. The birds which please, and the 
insects which annoy and alarm you are a part of the great 
museum of natural history daily opened to incurious eyes. Any 
one of these common objects may invite you to start on the path 
of endless discoveries. The spring branch followed out will 
lead you to the ocean. Not long since I drank for the first time 
at a spring which flows scarcely a hundred yards from my door- 
step. From the town in which I live, we have several views of 
the mountains. A few years since, a friend past middle life told 
me, he was born in sight of those peaks, had lived all his life in 
sight of them, and yet had never been on one, or near to one of 
them. These physical facts only symbolize intellectual expe- 
riences. Springs of truth have been flowing within easy reach 
of our well-trodden daily path, and yet they have flowed in vain. 
We have never prolonged or varied our accustomed walk, to gain 
their waters. Truths vital and enriching girdle our horizon, 
which were pointed out to our curious eyes, by early teachers, 
perhaps by parents, yet they are on the edge of our horizon still. 
We have never toiled up their sides, staff in hand. You will allow 
a distinct suggestion at this point. There is great advantage in 
having at hand some object which engrosses spare moments of 
time and effort, James Hamilton says, "Happy is the man who 
has a Magnum opus on hand. Be it an Excursion poem, or a 
Southey's Portugal or a Neander's Church History, to the fond 
projector there is no end of congenial occupation, and, provided 



112 Addresses 

he never completes it, there will be no end to the blissful illu- 
sion." It would be easy to fill up an hour with quotations from 
the builders of great works in literature in proof of this remark. 
We give only a few of those in easy reach. Bishop Home's simple 
and noble words on finishing his Commentary on the Psalms in 
1776 may well begin the list. "And now could the author flatter 
himself that any one would take half the pleasure in reading the 
following exposition, which he has taken in writing it, he would 
not fear the loss of his labor. The employment detached him 
from the bustle and hurry of life, the din of politics, and the 
noise of folly; vanity and vexation flew away for a season, care 
and disquietude came not near his dwelling. He arose fresh as 
the morning to his task, the silence of the night invited him to 
pursue it, and he can truly say that food and rest were not pre- 
ferred before it. Every psalm improved infinitely upon his 
acquaintance with it, and no one gave him uneasiness but the last, 
for then he grieved that his work was done. Happier hours than 
those which have been spent on these meditations upon the songs 
of Zion he never expects to see in this world. Very pleasantly did 
they pass, and moved swiftly along, for while thus engaged, he 
counted no time. They are gone, but have left a relish and 
fragrance upon the mind, and the remembrance of them is sweet." 
Cowper, in 1782, writes : "I feel an invincible aversion to employ- 
ment which I am constrained to fly to as my only remedy against 
something worse." The young author of the Course of Time, in 
1826, writes, "Although some nights I was on the border of fever, 
I rose every morning equally fresh, and with all the impatience 
of a lover hasted to my study." And there is that memorable 
passage from Gibbon, which he who has read oftenest will be 
most ready to hear again. Speaking of the conclusion of his 
great work he says, "It was on the day, or rather the night, of the 
27th June, 1787, between the hours of 11 and 12, that I wrote the 
last line of the last page in a summer house in my garden. After 
laying down my pen I took several turns in a covered walk of 
Acacia trees, which commanded a prospect of the country, the 
lake and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was 



J. H. Carlisle 113 

serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, 
and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions 
of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and perhaps the establish- 
ment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober 
melancholy was spread over my mind by the idea that I had 
taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, 
and that whatsoever might be the future fate of my history, the 
life of the historian must be short and precarious." And now, 
in immediate connection with this, let us read the pleasant words 
of our countryman. Dr. Allebone of Philadelphia, on closing his 
great work, "A Critical History of English Literature and 
British and American Authors, living and deceased, from the 
earliest accounts to the middle of the 19th century." The first 
volume appeared December, 1858, the second in March, 1870, 
the third in 1871. The author pleasantly writes to a friend, "On 
Tuesday last. May 29th, 1866, at 3 :27 p. m., I wrote the last line 
of the last page of the Dictionary projected by jne in 1850, and 
which I commenced preparing for the press in 1853. In humble 
imitation of my illustrious predecessor, I then took several 
turns in the garden, and walked around Rittenhouse square. I 
had no lake, there Gibbon had me, but my satisfaction was 
reflected in the countenance of my invaluable amanuensis, an 
excellent wife, and there I had Gibbon." 

This list you can extend indefinitely at your leisure. The tech- 
nical expression "a great work" may be used with a wide latitude 
of meaning. There are great works of all sizes. When a school- 
boy begins a trap, or a girl to dress a new doll, a young lady to 
prepare for commencement or a party, an engineer to build a 
railroad, a statesman to change or destroy an institution of his 
country, each of these has a great work, which draws by a strange 
attraction, portions of time which would otherwise go to waste. 
Suppose at once, before your commencement flowers wither, you 
select some subject to be studied, or some great book to be read 
and reread. Suppose you resolve never to be -without a great 
work. This will help you in living an intellectual life, in the 
sense in which we use it as one means of leading a quiet life. But 

8— C. A. 



114 Addresses 

life has not only problems to be studied, it has also burdens to 
be borne. To lead a quiet life it is not necessary to be detached 
from the living world around you. 

Listen to the description of an intellectual woman recently 
deceased. "She moved with the lightest step where she moved 
over the loftiest ground. Her feet were beautiful on the moun- 
tain tops of ideal thoughts. She was one of those whose thoughts 
are growing while they speak, and who never speak to surprise. 
Her intellectual fervor was not that which runs over in excite- 
ment; a quietude belonged to it, and it was ever modulated by a 
womanly instinct of reserve and dignity. She never thought for 
effect or cared to have the last word in discussion, or found it 
difficult to conceive how others would differ from her conclusions. 
She was more a woman than those who had not a tenth part of 
her intellectual energy. The seriousness and the softness of her 
nature raised her above vanity and its contortions." 

Happiness depends more on affection rightly placed than on 
intellectual powers rightly trained. We touch life too mechan- 
ically. We pass our fellows in the selfishness and haste of modern 
life, as the heavily laden dray horses pass each other in your 
streets. It would discourage and surprise us, if we could realize 
how vaguely, and with how little intelligence or feeling, many 
persons hear or use such words as our generation, our race, 
society. Arthur Helps says it is want of imagination which 
makes some persons so quarrelsome. They cannot place them- 
selves in thought in the position of their antagonists. Let us 
charitably hope that it is only a want of imagination, when men 
speak and write so easily, so flippantly, on the topics which these 
words suggest, with so little distinctness in their mental pic- 
tures. A little girl reads in Aesop's Fables about a fight between 
animals. At the same moment her father is reading his news- 
paper, which tells him that several hundred Germans or French- 
men have been killed in a recent battle. The girl shows some 
sympathy, some mental uneasiness. The man shows none, for he 
feels none whatever. She reads a fable as a true history. He 
reads a fresh page of bloody history as a fable. The sentence 



J. H. Carlisle 115 

which tells him that the French have killed a few hundred Ger- 
mans excites him no more than the sentence in an adjoining 
column of the same paper which tells him that a farmer in the 
Northwest has killed a few hundred grasshoppers. To a man 
of this average type of thought and feeling, the phrases, "our 
race," "our fellowmen," are as lifeless and unexciting as the 
phrases "our planets," "our milky-way." But beside an inability 
to enter fully into the meaning of such terms, there is often found, 
as the result of public or private griefs and trials, a positive 
aversion to all the sympathies which bind us to our race. The 
poetic man may not insincerely sigh for a lodge in some vast 
wilderness. The practical man in his disappointment may think 
life would be more tolerable in any other country or in any other 
age. He was no weak, sentimental dreamer who, living in a dis- 
tracted land, threw upon the angry winds around him this pas- 
sionate burst of poetry : 

"O ! that I had wings like a dove, for then I would fly away and be at rest. 
So then would I wander far off and remain in the wilderness, 
I would hasten my escape from the windy storms and tempest." 

He who said this in his haste, was a resolute man, who was often 
made to feel that he had work to do, for which he required other 
outfit than the wings of a dove, and nobly did the warrior, the 
statesman, the poet and the man fulfill his mission. You will 
be often assailed by this temptation in its grosser or its more 
insinuating forms. A few months ago a farmer came to our town 
with his cotton and sold it. He had a bank check in his hand 
when he met a friend. The conversation turned to some subject 
of current interest, when the farmer said with emphasis, "I some- 
times feel like running away to some savage island." "Captain," 
said his friend, "when you start, you will leave your bank check 
behind you, of course; you will not need that among savages." 
The farmer had not thought of that. Perhaps a savage island 
would be quite a tolerable place of abode, if we could carry there 
at once all the protections and delights of our civilization (a good 
supply of checks on non-suspending banks included), and none 



116 Addresses 

of its evils. But you may rest assured, he who shrinks from the 
fight which that civilization imposes, would prove, if the experi- 
ment could be tested, a blundering, inefficient, discontented 
savage. Perhaps in our times, to an unusual degree, men are 
moved by repulsions and antipathies, and stand apart from their 
fellowmen. It is an appropriate time for the warm and bound- 
less sympathies of woman to counteract the fierce strifes and 
competitions of men and hold society together. Let a distinct 
suggestion be offered again. At once when you go home, and 
look around for the work which is waiting for you as an edu- 
cated woman, select some special work of benevolence or mercy, 
and identify yourself with it. That community must be fortunate 
which does not furnish some sufferer, who may link you imme- 
diately to the great suffering world around you. The brotherhood 
of man is absolutely dependent on another doctrine of still 
higher import, which is fiercely assailed just now, the Fatherhood 
of God. If that foundation be destroyed what can we do ? "Our 
Father who art in Heaven !" There is not a man in this assembly 
who did not first hear that sublime truth from a woman's lips. 
How high the privilege, how solemn the responsibility of keeping 
alive in the hearts of successive generations this divine truth, 
which, when heart and flesh are failing, springs up in immortal 
youth. The command "Let your life be quiet" is bitter mockery 
if spoken to one who dreams or believes or hopes or fears that all 
this fair universe was blindly developed from an orphaned 
particle of matter. There may be recklessness or stupidity or 
despair, but there can be no quietness in her who stands in the 
path along which physical laws fiercely sweep in their unintel- 
ligent, uncontrollable course. 

There died recently in Scotland a remarkable man who in his 
young manhood had struggled with skepticism. Referring to 
that period of his life, he said, "I literally danced and shouted for 
joy, on the bank of the river, when I made the clear discovery that 
there is a personal God, though I then thought that he might 
damn me!" Very few of us have earned the right to criticise 
this startling assertion of a thoughtful man, who would prefer 



J. H. Carlisle 117 

to be damned by a personal God than to be crushed in the endless 
revels of blind physical laws. The Christian poet sings in a con- 
fident strain, the security of the sparrow on the mountain pine, 
rocked by wintery winds. Young woman, you are of more value 
than many sparrows. If all the winds of Christendom were 
warring around your home, you may lead a quiet life. In the 
twilight of our earth's history there is seen a commanding char- 
acter, who won this simple but sublime eulogy. Being called by 
his Maker "he went out, not knowing whither he went." As a 
purely physical fact, without reference to any religious light 
thrown on it, this is true in some very important respects, of every 
one of us. Take, for example, the elementary truth you have 
learned, the motion of the earth. The world is hurried along its 
pathway, with a speed which leaves the cannon ball lagging 
behind, in its flight. To hasten or retard, to guard or to guide 
the flight, a convention of astronomers would be as powerless as 
a convention of schoolboys. No courier has gone before to see 
that our way is clear, but while I am repeating these words we 
are all hurried along, not knowing whither we go. The country 
parson says he has at times desired to realize for an instant the 
motion of the earth. The desire is rash and foolish. No human 
mind could bear the revolution. If granted for one moment, the 
next moment would find our world dashing onward, with its 
teeming millions prostrate on its surface, all of them wild 
maniacs. And in other senses we hurry on, not knowing whither 
we go. The troubled current of history bears us on, we know not 
whither. The storms of war sweep over our pathway, we cannot 
tell whence they come, nor whither they go. And the cold, hard- 
ened man, who has long ceased to ask or hope for any religious 
light on life, he who has not for years shed a tear for himself, 
cannot see without emotion his children, just arriving at manhood 
or womanhood, pushing out into the current of life not knowing 
whither they go. My young friends, every door is shut but one. 
A personal faith and reliance on a personal God, a thankful 
acceptance of all his divinely generous offer of help and guidance, 
this is all that is left us. And what more could we dare to ask, 



118 Addresses 

or hope, or conceive? And here the maxim which has so long 
detained us, "Let your life be quiet," may find its appropriate 
limit. "Wlien He giveth quietness, who, then, can make trouble?" 

The other maxim is this, "Let your quiet life leave its memo- 
rials." But what memorials can a gentle, private woman leave 
behind her when she passes away unnoticed from life? We 
may perhaps gain something in the way of definite suggestions 
by classifying these memorials, as left by her tongue, pen, purse, 
influence. 

Let your tongue leave its memorials. A Christian woman may 
do much with this wonderful and characteristic endowment of 
speech. As we have no intention to treat this subject humor- 
ously our discussion must be very brief. Perhaps most persons, 
who have reached middle life, will select this as the point of a 
Christian character which has most baffled them in their own 
experience, and has most disappointed them in others. The wise 
combination of grace, purity and instruction in conversation is 
a rare attainment. A living critic says, "In England the small 
talk is heavy like water; in France it is light as air." What it is 
in America he does not tell us. It is only intended here, without 
note or comment, to ask your earnest attention to this prime 
department of your character and influence. Perhaps you may 
find some stimulus in a recent statement in English newspapers 
how good may be done with the tongue in other ways than in 
ordinary conversation. A few young ladies in one of the large 
cities of Scotland, wishing to find some womanly work, agreed to 
go out, two together, and visit the sick of their sex, especially the 
aged and the poor, and sing a hymn. Will not some of the sweet 
voices often heard in this chapel hereafter be heard by the bed- 
side where "Rock of Ages" or "Nearer to Thee" or "There is a 
Fountain" carries comfort and hope to the stricken heart? Can 
you leave a richer memorial in a room of suffering? Any memo- 
rial left by the pen must, of course, either be private letters 
written to friends, or articles written for the press. We refer 
more especially to the former. There is here a field of usefulness 
which many of your sex overlook or neglect. It is your duty and 



J. H. Carlisle 119 

privilege to keep up with some regularity correspondence with 
congenial spirits, and, as occasion offers, special letters to others, 
when in affliction, for example, or passing through a crisis of any 
kind in life. You excel in letter writing. This is not said to 
flatter, but to humble and stimulate you. "I like to get letters 
from any one at home," said a college student, "but I am espe- 
cially glad to get one from Sister Maggie. She tells me so many 
little things I want to know. She tells me where every hen's 
nest is." Read Cowper's letters, which are perhaps the best we 
can show, and then humbly, deliberately and persistently devote 
your pen, not to the purpose of flattery, folly or gossip, but to 
please and edify all to whom you can properly have access, in this 
way of doing good. You can be in many places at once through 
the wonderful magic of your pen, and you can prolong and per- 
petuate what the tongue can only utter in a perishable form. 
And when occasions offer, you still widen this influence by 
writing for the press. No one can look intelligently over our 
newspaper literature without seeing how largely it is indebted to 
women. Any endowments which you may have may here be 
devoted to the "Glory of God and the relief of men's estate." An 
English lady, a few years since, had her sympathies turned 
towards the sailors. She occasionally wrote a letter to a few 
whom she had met at the hospitals when they were sick. When 
trying to prolong her influence over them by letters, she found a 
wider field of usefulness than she had imagined. Her correspon- 
dence became so extensive she could not write to all who 
requested it. It occurred to her to write a circular letter and 
have it printed. And now she sends out on the first of each 
month a little pamphlet to each of her many correspondents, and 
these blue tracts, as they are called, are circulated literally by 
thousands and scores of thousands. And many an English sailor 
away from home reads with moist eyes as he sits on deck this 
plain personal appeal of an English lady who, leading a quiet 
life, multiplies her memorials on every side. This is a good 
instance of the rapid and indefinite growth, often granted to the 
humble, earnest laborer who seeks for something to do in the 



120 Addresses 

world's ripe harvest fields. Under the familiar word purse we 
may include all that you may do by money, benevolently and 
judiciously sj^ent. The right use and value of money is some- 
thing which cannot be well taught in college, and, therefore, 
many wise men and women never learn this elementary lesson. 
For $3.00 you may buy a religious newspaper, which will come 
to you weekly with messages from the great world without. 
Then, that amount of money is not to be despised. There is a 
little volume which is stirring our age as no other book ever 
can move it, provoking and yet defying its criticisms, laying an 
immovable obstacle in the path of bad men, and an infinite help 
to every one who wishes to think deeply or to live purely. For 
10 cents you can buy a copy of this work and carry it in your 
pocket, until by frequent reading, in season and out of season, you 
can become familiar with its wonderful disclosures and demands. 
Then, that trifling sum is not to be despised. For 3 cents you can 
give your classmate, when far away, a proof that you have not 
forgotten her. Neither the reiterated cry of hard times, nor the 
insincere plea of poverty, can excuse any one from helping with 
tongue and pen and purse to carry on the conquest of religion. 
I once heard an earnest man say, with perhaps pardonable exag- 
geration, "There is blessing or curse, there is heaven or hell in 
money." In these days when without a moment's notice to the 
owners fortunes take wings and fly away, the special caution may 
be given to your sex to hold themselves in readiness, to use a 
fortune humbly and wisely, or to resign it contentedly. Besides 
these specific channels of usefulness there is still another. A quiet 
life may be radiant with influence. The word is sometimes used 
in a narrow, technical sense, to mean that strange fascination or 
magneticism which is granted to some. ^Vhatley said he had 
no influence in this sense. All that he accomplished was owing 
to intellectual vigor or some other palpable quality, and not to 
personal influence. It is difficult to define this strange effect, 
though all of us have felt its power. Few men, and not all 
women possess it. Perhaps it cannot be sought directly. Yet it 
may be that something can be done indirectly. If any one trait 



J. H. Carlisle 121 

can be said to be inseperably linked with this influence, it is 
unselfishness, or as some prefer to express it, disinterestedness. 
This can be increased in any case where it is deficient. The sum 
is this, if you have this mysterious gift, let it not move you to 
vanity or pride. If you have it not, let this not move you to 
despair. There is a wider sense in which the term may be used 
to mean all that can be done, by giving time, sympathy or a good 
example. It may be well to remind you in these days of manifold 
associations and organizations that the great law of personal 
responsibility is ever around us. John Hall asks, "Who ever saw 
a tear in the eye of a committee?" Let us remember that to the 
bar of conscience, to say nothing of another and more solemn 
tribunal, we come not in merry troops, not in confederate bands, 
not organized in societies or churches, but alone, in awful, incom- 
municable, untransferrable, individuality. The question, "What 
should our church, our society, our committee do?" is very 
important. But there is another which must not be forgotten, 
"Wliat wilt thou have me to do?" On some one of you will, in all 
probability, rest the responsibility of continuing or disbanding 
some useful christian machinery in a retired country neighbor- 
hood. It will rest with you to say whether by fitful, desultory, 
random struggles or by uniform and sustained power some benev- 
olent or religious movement shall be conducted. You left the 
neighborhood a few years ago an aimless schoolgirl. You go back 
now an educated woman. Is the community to know any differ- 
ence between your departure and your return ? Look at our cities 
as they greedily call for fresh troops of country boys and young 
men, drawing them in by scores and hundreds, to grind them 
up, so much muscle and brain, to feed the remorseless machinery 
of city life ! Is it a small question whether they come with fibre 
and texture of manly and christian character, or with only some 
negative qualities strong only in the absence of all temptation? 
The religious character of a congregation or community will 
scarcely rise above that of the women composing it. "It is more 
blessed to give than to receive." You have now reached the 
blessed stage of life, when from a receiver of healthy and edu- 



122 Addresses 

eating influences you may rise to a giver. May I not say with- 
out irreverence, "freely you have received, freely give?" There is 
one especial result of female education which may, perhaps 
without impropriety, be emphasized by one who has never spent 
a day in the education of girls or young ladies. I mean the 
instant and ceaseless effect, on a whole household, which follows 
from sending back an educated daughter. A son, when educated, 
most probably goes to another community to start his life work. 
His life current is in most cases distinct from the main family 
stream, which may run on just as if he had never been educated. 
He may even feel lifted up, though shame to him if he does, 
above the plain, simple life of the parents who, with the labor of 
their own hands, gave him his outfit into life. But if not, it is 
not probable that any marked influence will follow on the family 
history. Not so when you send a refined, educated older sister 
into an uncultured household. Younger brothers and sisters feel 
the impulse of her presence. You educate the entire household 
to an important extent. Nor does it stop here. You may often 
see a college graduate who, as a father, seems to care little for the 
culture of his children. Have you ever met an educated woman 
who is willing to be the mother of ignorant children? A very 
thoughtful English writer has a remarkable passage, to which 
you will all give special attention. He attempts to state definitely 
the points in which women are superior to men. The list should 
arrest your notice, as you are publicly committed to be conspicu- 
ously superior to us in each of the qualities mentioned. The 
writer alluded to makes one of his characters say to a lady, "You 
are superior to men in quiet endurance, in niceness of demeanor, 
in proprieties of all kinds, in delicate perceptions of all kinds, 
especially of character, in domestic prudence, in constancy, and 
what is greatest of all, in not allowing your affections or your 
administration to be dulled or diminished by familiarity." 

Young ladies, one of the crying evils of our day is the habit of 
unfair or distorted quotations. I cannot honestly stop just here, 
for the same writer goes on to mention some traits in which you 
are not superior to us. Just listen while I read these sentences 



J. H. Carlisle 123 

slowly, and see for yourselves what you might have been but 
for the education here received and the diploma now in your 
hand, which, of course, pledges you to rise far above such weak- 
nesses as are here pointed out: "You are inferior," says this bold 
writer, "to us, in the sense of justice, in daring, in originality and 
generally in greatness. You have minor defects, too. You are 
not so pleasant to one another as men are. The art of nagging, 
and of being generally disagreeable, when you choose, are yours 
in perfection. Decidedly you are more unforgiving than we are." 

Young ladies, can you give any good reason why each one of 
you should not be held responsible for leaving memorials in each 
one of the points now specified — tongue, pen, purse and influence ? 
It is not a question of modesty or diffidence. It is a question of 
responsibility. It has been taken for granted that you will be 
active. There are some of the loveliest of your sex who are shut 
up in rooms of suffering. In place of extended theory, look at one 
example of this kind. Dr. Thomas Arnold, writing to a friend, 
gives this account of his own sister: "I must conclude with a 
more delightful subject, my most dear and blessed sister. I never 
saw a more perfect instance of the spirit of power, and of love 
and of sound mind-intense love, almost to the annihilation of 
selfishness — a daily martrydom for twenty years, during which 
she adhered to her early formed resolution of never talking about 
herself — thoughtful about the very pins and ribbons of my wife's 
dress — about the making of a doll's cap for a child — but of her- 
self, save only as regarded her ripening in all goodness, wholly 
thoughtless, enjoying everything lovely, graceful, beautiful, high- 
minded, whether in God's works or man's, with the keenest relish 
— inheriting the earth to the very fullness of the promise, though 
never leaving her crib, nor changing her posture — and preserved 
through the very valley of the shadow of death from all fear, or 
impatience or from every cloud of impaired reason which might 
mar the beauty of Christ's Spirit's glorious work." 

Thus even a life darkened by great accepted sorrow may leave 
its memorials. 

Young Ladies of the Graduating Class, very many and varied 



124 Addresses 

are the interests and sympathies now excited in the breast of 
those present as they look upon you today. Anxious parents are 
here, your professors look upon you for the last time as a class, 
your religious teachers enter with full hearts into the emotions of 
the hour. They have been present on many former occasions, but 
this has still an interest all its own. The stranger who stands 
here today for the first time, representing thousands who know 
your mother through her many daughters, is glad in their name 
to utter a fervent benediction. "Peace be within thy walls, and 
prosperity within thy palaces." Your institution has the vener- 
ableness of age with none of its weakness. The genius of this 
place is fitted to arrest the thoughtless girl, and change her into 
an earnest, aspiring student. For eveiy generous act you have 
performed during your college course, for every lady-like refine- 
ment and grace you have here displayed, for every influence 
which radiating from you remains behind you, to win your suc- 
cessors to the pursuit of high christian womanhood, for every 
contribution which you have made, individually or as a class, 
to all the intellectual or religious endowment of this institution, 
I thank you. You have been gathering, I hope assiduously gath- 
ering, every accomplishment and grace which places like this can 
furnish. Now go home and pour them all out as a grateful 
thank-offering on the dear old hearth-stone of your childhood. 
You have been running about, with all the freshness and alacrity 
of youth, through the forest and the field, in search of every rare 
flower. Now go home with your trophies, and dress the house- 
hold gods of home. Your education is not intended chiefly to 
astonish or attract the stranger, but (may I use the simple and 
sacred image?) "to give light to all that are in the house." Happy 
is the household, warmed and cheered and lighted by an educated 
sister or daughter. Go then, each to her appointed post, and let 
her affections cling to the station in which duty places her. Go 
to rock the cradle of reposing age, to pillow that anxious head 
on which these eventful years are shedding untimely snow. Go 
to throw a sister's magic love around that young brother. Go 
to bear your daily burden, whatever it may be, and to take your 



J. H. Carlisle 125 

place, an educated woman's place, in the great work which your 
sex has to do in these days of restlessness and strife. Be ashamed 
of this institution if you will, tear away the seal and signatures 
from those diplomas, be ashamed of your classmates or room- 
mate, be ashamed of her whose features and name you wear, who 
is now waiting impatiently to welcome you home to the arms 
which protected your infancy, be ashamed of any or all of these, 
but, young women, Christian young women, never for one miser- 
able guilty moment admit the temptation to be ashamed of Him 
who redeemed you. 

Many years hence may the fitting epitaph be written for each 
one of the class of 1875, "How quiet was her life, and yet how 
precious, how enduring are its memorials." 



126 Addresses 



ADDRESS OF JAMES H. CARLISLE, LL. D., FRATERNAL DEL- 
EGATE FROM THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 
SOUTH, TO GENERAL CONFERENCE OF M. E. 
CHURCH, HELD IN CINCINNATI, MAY, 1880. 

Mr. President, Fathers, and Brethren : A few Aveeks ago a sick 
man rode into the depot of a Southern city. Calling for one of his 
own faith, he introduced himself as a dying Methodist preacher 
from the North. He was kindly received, and had such attentions 
as he needed. This incident was scarcely worthy of all the notice 
taken of it by the newspapers North and South. It would 
mortify us to learn that any one was surprised at the reception 
given to a strange brother. It is very certain that a minister 
from the South, crossing the line into your border, under similar 
circumstances, would receive precisely similar treatment. To the 
dying Christian all the kindness shown was of little value. If 
he had been met with coldness, with positive rudeness and insult 
even, supposing that possible in a Christian land, he would still 
have died in peace. It is the living who need kindness, recogni- 
tion, and confidence. 

It is an era in the history of both parties when one million 
human beings speak through any medium to two millions, and 
say. We are brethren. "But all this is only a form," it is some- 
times said. The splendid bridge which spans the noble river near 
us is only a form, a dead, passive thing, yet the current of trade 
and travel rolls over it ceaselessly to enrich your city. What is 
the metal tube which carries water or light into your dwelling 
but a form ? Yet it gladdens your home. What was the saluta- 
tion with which your friend met you this morning but a form? 
Wliat are all courtesies among men ? What are all human usages 
and institutions but forms? In this sense a salutation between 
churches is a great form, empty in itself, but open to receive all 
that either side can pour into it. This form has so much value 
that some in our church, as in yours, cannot enter into it heartily. 




DR. JAMES H. CARLISLE, 1S81. 



J. H. Carlisle 127 

One of the saddest results of recent events is, that some in every 
part of our country have lost confidence in their fellowmen, their 
fellow-citizens, their fellow -christians. There is a loss greater 
than that. Some have lost the power to confide in others. This, 
if general, would be national bankruptcy in its most dreadful 
shape. There is, however, a loss even beyond that. Some have 
lost the wish to confide in others. They are not only reconciled 
to their disability, but they glory in it. These represent a class 
described by Arthur Helps as men who, imprisoned by their 
prejudices, like madmen mistake their jailers for a guard of 
honor. Let us hope there are not more of these in any part of 
our country than can be profitably used as instructive object- 
lessons. 

It is a painful condition of things when, through lack of confi- 
dence, silver and gold are hidden away in secret places, and trade 
decays. It is more painful when, in a Christian land, suspicions 
and distrust prevail, so that any kindly impulse felt is idle and 
unproductive, forbidden to pass from lip to lip, in that generous 
commerce which is doubly gainful and blessed. There was a 
time when this was the case with our churches. There have 
always been in each church not only good men, but, what is rarer, 
fair-minded men, who could respect the Christian worth of those 
across the lines. But they were embarrassed by the painful fact 
that their churches, as organic bodies, held no intercourse. It 
may be a little thing to send or receive a messenger, but it was a 
great thing that for years this little thing was not done. It is 
not surprising that in a terrible season of war bad tempers should 
rise, but must they be lasting? An hour of pain may cause a 
spasmodic convulsion. Must it become a ghastly, life-long dis- 
tortion? A great missionary tidal wave is spreading over our 
whole land just now. Can you imagine that as taking place and 
the churches still unreconciled? Think of two great communions, 
substantially of the same faith and order, each consumed with 
burning zeal for the poor heathen on the other side of the globe, 
and yet treating with indifference or contempt God's image in the 
brethren by their side ! Would that be comedy or tragedy ? Let 



128 Addresses 

us render thanks to the bishops and leading men of both churches 
— the best of all being that God was with them — who have saved 
us from that shame. It is not a little thing that the painful 
silence of years has been broken, and vague impulse has taken 
articulate form and shape. It cannot be displeasing to Him 
whose name we alike bear, that we may now kneel together and 
say, "Our Father, thy kingdom come! Forgive us our debts as 
we forgive our debtors," We may never all see alike, or think 
alike, or vote alike in church or state, but we have much, very 
much, in common. The sacred and eternal points of agreement 
which draw us together are stronger than the temporal and tran- 
sient points which divide us in spirit. Our sympathies should 
be stronger than our antipathies. We agree wonderfully in our 
interpretation of the Bible. This fact should have far more 
significance than the fact that we disagree in our interpretation 
of some passages in the Constitution of the United States, or 
of some passages in recent or current history. "Religion is the 
only remedy for diseased States," says Vinet. Methodists share 
largely with sister churches a responsibility for the success or 
failure of Christian civilization in these lands. A careful study 
of the census pictures, which show graphically in colors the 
relative strength of the leading denominations in our country, 
must suggest to a thoughtful Methodist other feelings than those 
of complacency or pride. We ought to be felt in forming the 
public tone and sentiment of this great and rapidly growing 
people. This does not mean in deciding the political dress of the 
nation; but we ought to be felt in shaping the character, and 
through that the history and destiny of our people. 

Twenty-five years ago, when England was engaged in a foreign 
war, a thoughtful minister expressed a hope that all the cost and 
suffering of the war might, as one good result, lessen or destroy 
two great vices in his native land. He mentioned party spirit and 
thirst for material wealth. What effect may have been produced 
on England, in either of these respects, by the Crimean war, is 
not now the question before us. It can scarcely be hoped that the 
effect of a civil war would be to lessen either of these national 



J. H. Carlisle 129 

evils with us. Rather, the instant effect was to intensify fearfully 
one or both of these gigantic evils. It has been said that perhaps 
there has not been for two centuries a public question in Christen- 
dom with so many complications and difficulties as gather around 
the civil war, its causes, and results. As one of the results, it was 
inevitable that church lines must largely coincide with geograph- 
ical and party lines. But, if religion comes in to perpetuate and 
intensify party spirit, instead of curing it, the future of the 
country is dark indeed. If the light that is in us become dark- 
ness, how great will be that darkness ! This is too great and 
goodly a land to be given up to the genius of discord and hate. 
You will let a layman declare, with all possible emphasis, that 
one of the greatest difficulties in the way of the common man is 
the fierce temper so often carried into religious quarrels, and into 
public quarrels by religious men. If the Christians of this land 
could meet all the great questions now confronting us, not as 
angels may be supposed to meet them, but as patient, tolerant, 
large-hearted, Christian and Christ-like men, this would do 
more for the spread of Christianity than all the volumes of 
evidences that this generation of scholars can write. Must we, 
every fourth year, pass through a strain on our whole texture of 
society, which makes good men everywhere serious even to sad- 
ness? Let the solemn fact be solemnly alluded to even here and 
now, that while our country is divided, not very unequally, into 
two great parties, each fairly representing the intelligence, wealth 
and moral worth of the land, neither party today willingly trusts 
the other to open a box and count the little pieces of paper in it. 
Surely there is solemn, earnest Christian work to be done by all 
American churches and all Christian men and women. When 
the great problem presented is to educate and Christianize the 
public mind and heart and conscience of our common country, 
"he may be unwise who is sanguine, but he is unpatriotic and 
unchristian who despairs." 

In our immediate church relations there are seen strong reasons 
why we should meet this crisis like Christian men. Two great 
bodies, with all important points in common, each pledged to 

9— C. A. 



130 Addresses 

spread holiness through these lands, ought to have a clear and 
full understanding. If such grave interests were not involved 
it would be amusing to watch the position and attitudes of our 
churches. Here are two stout, comely Methodist lads, not quite a 
century old. They have all the sanguine, complacent feelings 
which are natural to that early stage of historic growth. They 
are not afflicted with that excessive diffidence which is so painful 
in some young people. They are not afraid of that which is 
high or of large designs. A few years ago they had a most 
unbrotherly struggle. Since that time each has felt it a religious 
duty to consecrate in prose and poetry not only the heroic inci- 
dents, but the spirit and sentiment, even the moods and tempers, 
of his story of the fight, while he often suggests to his brother 
that he ought to let the past go, and never allude to this matter 
before company. 

Each one, with the charming simplicity of youth, says openly 
to the whole world, "I see the way verj-^ clear for me to achieve 
the great mission to which I am certainly called ; but, alas for me ! 
I have a twin brother, and is he not rightly named Jacob? For 
he supplants me on all occasions in birthright and in blessings." 
Each one of these Wesley boys is in a great chronic distress about 
the other's eyesight. Each one is forward on all occasions, in 
season and out of season, to offer his whole stock of oil of vitriol, 
his lancet, and his tomahawk, to take the mote out of his dear 
brother's eye. Surely it is time to put away these childish things. 

"What can war but endless wars still breed?" 

Are we to be forever approaching, and never reaching, the last 
word? There are important questions affecting us which we 
cannot wisely settle in haste or passion. Sometimes a division of 
a small circuit has given rise to feelings and tempers which die 
only with the existing generation. Two great organizations, 
touching at so many points, and overlapping in not a few, must 
meet very often with questions which at best are complicated 
and delicate, and which through a little indiscretion on either 



J. H. Carlisle 131 

side may at once become irritating. We have formally agreed to 
seek peace. We must now pursue it, even if, at times, it seems to 
avoid us. There must be on each side some positive spontaneity, 
some generous venture, a willingness to risk something. Con- 
fidence is not a plant of rapid growth at any time, but it cannot 
grow at all if a cold east wind is blowing all the while, and 
enemies sowing tares besides. Let us place this great interest 
where a few ill-tempered tongues and pens on either side, or on 
both sides, cannot disturb it. Let all the lines be manned by 
watchmen who are not only vigilant but brave, and therefore 
generous, wise, and therefore prudent, pure-minded, and there- 
fore peaceable. Let them be men who never can sink to become 
tale-bearers or gossips. If either church seriously departs from 
historic landmarks, in doctrine or in life, let the righteous smite. 
But all petty "bush-whacking" around the walls of Zion must be 
stopped. Let every Methodist, North and South, East and West, 
beware, lest while his neighbors are praising him (and men will 
praise thee when thou doest well to thyself, thy section, or thy 
party) the words which win their praise may draw down upon 
him the solemn rebuke from the skies, "Thou slanderest thine own 
mother's son." 

Let the simple truth be Icnown and felt in every Methodist 
pulpit, office, school, home, and closet, that the right and left arms 
of the great Methodist body can gain nothing but sorrow and 
shame by tearing each other. If neither half respects the other, 
how can the world respect both, or either? If with us it is a 
little thing, on any trivial occasion, to sneer at our brother's 
sincerity or faith, outsiders will sneer at us both, and at all 
religion. Indulging in this censorious, quarrelsome disposition, 
we may, before we are aware of it, train up in our homes and 
schools a race of narrow-minded Pharisees or of open scojffers. 
Let him who can, decide which of these is the more to be dreaded. 

In both churches we are trying some interesting experiments. 
Laymen have always been a problem to Methodists. One of 
Wesley's greatest trials was when he was forced to recognize lay 
preachers. Like a wise man, he tried to make the most of what 



132 Addresses 

he considered a necessary evil. They have been largely instru- 
mental in carrying his institutions around the globe. Many years 
ago a question was raised about admitting laymen into the 
church councils. Our ministers gave many unanswerable argu- 
ments to show that this could never be done. A few years after, 
when no one asked for it, the doors were suddenly thrown open, 
and we were invited in accordingly. And now a humble layman, 
admitted to the General Conference, has a vote — a privilege 
denied to our beloved bishops. You, too, have been cautiously 
experimenting with your laymen, taking them in on probation, 
admitting them into good company, once in four years. Now 
you think you have trained them so that an annual visit may be 
borne with. Our church, with a longer experience, can encourage 
you to trust them largely. They will not only vote intelligently 
and safely on all important issues, but, owing perhaps to the 
force of clerical example, they will even talk a little occasionally 
in your Conferences when they can succeed in getting the floor. 

Both churches, too, are trying to keep pace with the advancing 
times, in the preparation of the ministry. 

In this we may meet with only partial success. To refuse to try 
this experiment is to meet with certain failure. The full and 
intimate sympathy between our members and our ministry is one 
great source of our strength. It is also the cause of some of our 
weakness, as it exposes our ministry to every current of popular 
feeling. To give special training to the ministry without weak- 
ening its sympathy with the masses and its power over them, is a 
question which perhaps no church of Christendom today has 
fully solved. Let us hope that in this, as well as in other current 
questions of great importance, the churches may show to the 
world that the early zeal, which all accord to us, was strength 
which can be readily thrown into any shape required by the 
changing phases of the times. 

Some one has attempted to calculate in dollars the value in 
growth of all our various crops to the whole country of one hour's 
common sunshine in spring. It swells up to a mighty sum. No 
human arithmetic can compute the worth of even a short season, 



J. H. Carlisle 133 

when strifes are hushed, when passion sleeps, when slumbering 
memories and sympathies revive, and a wearied nation is bathed 
in the heavenly sunshine of peace, so quiet, and yet so powerful. 
The proverb says that he who does not lose his reason on some 
occasions has none to lose. Wisely interpreted, this is a wise 
maxim. Wlio has not in the family circle had his happiest hours 
when abandoning himself to the current of emotions which 
reason did not directly produce or control ? What patriot is there 
who has not, on some signal anniversary, the 22d of February, for 
example, enriched and strengthened his patriotic sentiments and 
impulses by a process in which logic had little power? Who 
that loves the stones and gates of Zion has not felt the full tide 
of sacred joy inspire and elevate his nature, not as a result of a 
toil or struggle, but of a surrender; not from active efforts, but 
as passively receiving all the enriching influences of some favored 
hour? This weary, heavy-laden land needs rest. It cannot live 
by bread alone. The churches, our churches, need peace and sun- 
shine, cheap, common, blessed sunshine. "Then had the churches 
rest throughout all Judea, Samaria and Galilee," is the simple 
but touching record in a verse of the historical Book of Acts. 
The geographical names, no doubt, had then a vivid significance, 
which they have now lost to us. That is a happy provision which 
makes it impossible for these geographical terms to cast their 
dark shadows indefinitely down through the generations of men. 

In modern phrase it might read, "Then had the churches rest 
throughout all the Southern, Middle and Northern States." 
Blessed shall be the historian whose pen may seek relief from 
war's mournful chapters in that glad verse. Blessed even now 
is the Christian man or woman who does something to prepare 
the church for that happy hour. We could not have a greater 
curse inflicted on us than that we should be doomed, that is, 
should doom ourselves, to continue hateful and hating one 
another. Some difficulties Avhich disturbed us have been removed. 
Others yet remain, and new diificulties will often appear. But 
all must give way if "love drives our chariot wheels." 

Christian fraternity is not a magic phrase. It is a simple name 



134 Addresses 

for a great Christian duty and privilege. It is not poetry, to 
which we can attain only on rare and elevated occasions. It is 
the prose which we must speak along life's common pathway. 
We shall try your patience hereafter. You will try ours. Sup- 
posing you to be just like ourselves, with twice our aggregate 
number, you may have twice as many of those who form the 
effective quiet workers, the valuable rank and file of the Meth- 
odist army, the men and women who try to do all the good they 
can, while trying to do no harm. In this army you have a pos- 
sibility of good which, if right to do so, we might envy. But you 
are entitled to carry twice as many of those who do not only 
steadfastly believe the great doctrine of human depravity, but 
who so consistently illustrate it that it becomes impossible for 
others to doubt. These will be to us excellent teachers of patience. 
Under such tuition, we give you formal notice that we will sur- 
pass you in magnanimity, generosity and long-suffering if we can. 
We are willing to believe, however, that we have at last rounded 
the Cape of Good Hope, and have before us a wide Pacific Sea, 
which is vexed only by such stonns as are inevitable to our earthly 
atmosphere. 

We are certainly now in that crisis of our intercourse as sister 
churches where every man can see just what he wishes to see. 
If he is a lover of peace he will often see occasions on which, by 
tongue and pen, by influence, public and private, he can 
strengthen the bonds so auspiciously formed. If he is not at 
heart a lover of peace, he will, on any day, find occasion, as he 
will believe, to cry out the monotonous, the inevitable, and the 
unanswerable, "I told you so; look at your fraternity." That 
now, in the solemn afternoon of the nineteenth century, there are 
men. Christian men, to whom the phrase Christian fraternity 
scarcely rises to the dignity of a joke, and suggests only a point- 
less sneer is fresh cause of humiliation to us all. 

Our last Sabbath-school lesson carried us to the mount of trans- 
figuration. The astonished disciples came down from that sacred 
mountain, with its celestial visitors, to find poor human nature 
torn by a demon at its base. You are here to overlook manv 



J. H. Carlisle 135 

and far-reaching interests of your vast organization. If our 
wishes and prayers can avail, you will find every day in the 
social and religious intercourse of this place an ever- fresh, enrich- 
ing influence. In all the prosaic drudgery and claims of a labor- 
ious session you will find it good to be here. You may go down 
to common life when all these claims have been met, perhaps to 
find a great nation torn by the spirit of discord and strife. If we 
ask — and what thoughtful patriot has not asked again and again, 
in sorrow and surprise — "Why cannot we cast out this evil 
spirit?" the sad answer is at hand, "Because of our unbelief," 
our want of faith in God and man. We suppose our common 
Father to be like to one of ourselves. We cannot rise to the 
high conception that North and South, as we often use them, are 
words which he does not recognize. We unconsciously suppose 
that he regards, just as we do, state lines and party lines. These 
are very important and necessary for many purposes. But they 
do not, they cannot, restrain or bound his all-embracing love, 
blessed be his name ! And we unfortunately lack faith in our 
fellowman. We too often judge him by the badge or regalia he 
wears. We do not rightly prize the immortal jewel within. With 
our backs on the irrevocable past, and our faces turned toward 
the available future, can we not gather from all the associations 
and inspirations of this hour some lasting impulse which will 
connect them with the suffering nation below ? 

The North and the South ! These short words have gathered 
strange power to move the swiftest instincts of our nature. They 
have "turned the coward's heart to steel, the sluggard's blood to 
flame." Must they forever be the watchwords of an undying 
strife? Must they still represent a gulf across which no love or 
sympathy can reach? Is there no one high relation which can 
adjust and subordinate them — no one overpowering sentiment 
which can unite them? Will not all Christians, of all names, in 
all parts of this vast nation, surprised and saddened, but made 
humble and wise by their painful failure, carry this distracted 
land, the common mother of us all, to Him who can give peace 
and quiet? Brethren, we solemnly pledge you the sympathy and 



136 Addresses 

prayers of many thousands of earnest men and faithful women, 
who will join you and your people in urging to heaven an appeal 
which may satisfy all the purest longings of patriotism and piety : 
"The North and the South, thou hast created them" ; 

"Possess them, thou who hast the right, 
As Lord and Master of the whole." 



J. H. Carlisle 137 

MADAME DeSTAEL. 

Address Made at Columbia College, Columbia, S. C. 

Thomas Campbell, in one of the finest passages of his prose 
writings, thus describes his launching of a ship of the line : "Of 
that spectacle I can never forget the impression and of having 
witnessed it reflected from the faces of ten thousand spectators. 
They seem yet before me — I sympathize with their deep and 
silent expectation, and with their final burst of enthusiasm. It 
was not a vulgar joy, but an affecting national solemnity. When 
the vast bulwark sprang from her cradle, the calm water on 
which she swings majestically round, gave the imagination a 
contrast of the storm element on which she was soon to ride. All 
the days of battle and nights of danger which she had to 
encounter; all the ends of the earth which she had to visit; all 
that she had to do and to suffer for her country, rose in awful 
presentment before the mind, and when the heart gave her a 
benediction it was like one pronounced on a living being." Those 
who read this passage must often have it recalled to their minds 
by the incidents connected with the graduation of a class. And 
though it might seem more immediately to suggest the entrance 
into life of those who are to take part in its more active scenes, 
yet it has been recalled to my mind while looking forward to this 
occasion when many hearts are pronouncing their benediction 
upon those who now formally enter into life. Who can be an 
unconcerned spectator of a scene like this? Young ladies, how 
happy would he be who could contribute something which would 
add to the interest of the occasion and be associated with your 
happy recollections of this crisis in your life. Those who control 
these exercises called for the humble contribution of one who 
has no special qualification for the humble task which they have 
been pleased to impose. He has had no experience in shaping 
the character or guiding the studies of young women. He is too 
young to speak in tones of authority or to give advice — he is too 



138 Addresses 

old to run about for flowers to throw at your feet. One of your 
own sex must teach you. Perhaps there is no more appropriate 
way of spending this hour than to select some one of the distin- 
guished women whose works and lives are the common property 
of the world. Let us then attempt to gather some reflections from 
the life and character of Madame DeStael. We do not intend to 
fill up the hour with historical narration or a list of incidents and 
dates. Neither will we attempt to give a complete and discrimin- 
ating view of her character, its lights and shades. We simply 
propose to select a few of its salient points and draw from them 
the reflection which may seem appropriate to the occasion. Anne 
Maria Necker, afterwards the wife of Baron DeStael, only 
child of James Necker, the distinguished Minister of Louis XVI, 
was born in 1766 and died in 1817, her whole life, with the excep- 
tion of twelve years, having been spent in Paris, where she was 
born and died. Her life embraced, as you have seen at once, the 
half centuiy which is perhaps in many respects the most remark- 
able in modern history. It includes two events either of which 
would have signalized it to pass over many other pages of great 
though inferior interest — the American Revolution and its cari- 
cature, the Revolution in France. She was not beautiful. Nature 
had been so prodigal of her richer gifts to her favorite daughter 
we are not surprised to learn that she withheld her common ones. 
The first reflection we have to make is, she was pre-eminently an 
intellectual woman. She possessed powers of mind which would 
have attracted attention and singled out the fortunate possessor 
in any age or nation. Her parents were ambitious of literary 
distinction for her and themselves, and were assiduous in their 
endeavors to awaken her desires after intellectual culture and 
power. They had the gifts of fortune which would have enabled 
them to lead in the frivolities of Parisian society, but they 
aspired to move in a higher sphere of life. They drew around 
them the enlightened and cultivated men of the day, and to their 
honor it is recorded in all the disorder and confusion of those 
times their house was ever the resort of scholars and philosophers, 
the abode of refinement and of letters. Their gifted daughter 



J. H. Carlisle 139 

was thrown in contact, without any figure of speech we may say 
into collision with the greatest minds of France, indeed of 
Europe, and left her impress upon all — all consenting to award 
her the praise due to transcendent powers of mind. Abbott, in 
his Life of Napoleon, has drawn a graphic picture of a scene 
which took place in her father's brilliant saloon. She and Jose- 
phine had finished some exquisite music on the piano and harp 
when two strangers were announced. An old family friend 
appeared leading a pale young man in uniform. Abbott, of 
course, has many pointed remarks to quote. He tells us the aris- 
tocrats looked coldly on the young plebian stranger until a subject 
was started which interested the company and drew from the 
young soldier a striking little speech, which fortunately JSIr. 
Abbott is able to give literally, when the young ladies thanked 
their friend for introducing to them so interesting a young man. 
Now, if all this be true, it will go to show that a friendship which 
begins in poetry may end in prose. That pale young soldier 
became Emperor of France and he and his young female 
acquaintance met again and elsewhere. Napoleon, who, whatever 
he was or was not, was certainly no mean judge of intellect and 
character, has left an imperishable and indisputable record of 
his estimate of Madame DeStael in the fact that he banished her 
— she being the first though, unfortunately for his memory, not 
the only woman sent into exile by his stern decrees. The connec- 
tion between those two distinguished persons shall illustrate some 
of the strongest points in the character of both. It is always 
exciting and exhilarating to see two great bodies swiftly moving 
come into collision either in the physical or intellectual world. 
It may seem to a superficial view strange to speak of competi- 
tion or rivalry between those who move in orbits so entirely dis- 
tinct. Can there be competition between a warrior, a statesman, 
an emperor and a woman without office or authority? Will the 
court, the camp, the senate house compete with the saloon, the 
drawing room ? A moment's reflection on the nature of vaulting 
ambition will explain it all. Ambition seeks to sweep the field 
and leave nothing for the humble gleaner. When the storm 



140 Addresses 

sweeps over a forest it is not satisfied with conquest of the oak 
and pine, but makes every shrub and blade of grass to bend in 
obeisance. We venture to say that kingdoms have been lost and 
won with less mental excitement than was felt on each side when 
the captain of a hundred battles met the victor of a thousand 
drawing rooms face to face. She was accustomed to triumph 
when in company and looked forward with intense interest to her 
meeting with the Consul of France. It is amusing to read her 
own account of these interviews and see with what artless 
sympathy she tells her defeat. She admits all her powers were 
exerted on him in vain. She complains of a difficulty of breath- 
ing in his presence, and says in the very moment when she felt 
secure, he could elude her by putting on a blank expression and 
his whole face would look as if carved from marble. She could 
not stir to a ripple the deep waters of his nature. She failed. 
And so did he. The lordly emperor soon found that in the 
empire of mind there is no law. She carried a quiver full of 
arrows and could hit a man if he wefe seated on a rainbow. He 
saw that to leave her mistress of the social and literary life in 
Paris would leave an empire within an empire. He saw he must 
silence her tongue and pen or drive her from the country. You 
can imagine which of the tasks he found the easier one. The 
manner in which Talleyrand announced this decision to her may 
be worth noticing in these days when diplomacy is assuming new 
and strange phases. After a few courtly compliments he mer- 
rily said, "I hear, Madame, you are going to take a journey." 
She answered, "Oh, no, it is a mistake ; I have no such intention." 
"Pardon me, I was informed that you were going to Switzer- 
land." "I have no such project I assure you." "But I have been 
assured on the best authority that you would quit Paris in three 
days." She did so. But she did not leave a dejected, downcast 
exile, she left the stage with the air and port of an offended queen, 
and is said to have hurled back at him this rebuke: "You are 
giving me a cruel celebrity. I will occupy a line in your history." 
A few years afterward when Napoleon wished to secure her 
influence he sent a message to invite her to come and help him 



J. H. Carlisle 141 

to form a constitution. "Tell him," was her heroic, ladylike 
answer, "he has got along for ten years without either me or a 
constitution, and I believe he has as little regard for the one as 
the other." James Mackintosh, in the Edinburg "Review," at the 
time says with force and beauty, "The persecutions of Madame 
DeStael will be remembered among the distinction of female 
talent. It is honorable to the sex that the independent spirit of 
one woman of genius has disturbed the triumph of the conqueror 
of Europe. This almost solitary example of an independence not 
to be intimidated by power, nor subdued by renown, has very 
strikingly displayed the inferiority of Napoleon's character to his 
genius." Her principal writings, as is well known, are "Corinne," 
a historical romance; several volumes on literary society and 
manners of Germany, "Delphin," an elaborate essay on Litera- 
ture, a shorter essay on Rosseau, one on suicide, and considera- 
tions on the French Revolution, amounting to seventeen volumes 
in all. Her writings are the proofs of her intellectual power. 
This is not the place or occasion for an extended and discrimin- 
ating notice of them even if we had read them all with the care 
sufficient, which is not the case. But perhaps her ability was 
more fully displayed in her conversations than in her works even. 
She came as near to a female Coleridge as the world has ever seen. 
She met in the freedom of conversational debate all the great 
minds of her day and met them as equals. Pitt and Fox and 
Romily confessed they received valuable suggestions from her on 
the subjects to which their lifelong studies had been directed. 
Sir James Mackintosh writes in his diary while reading her well- 
known work, "I swallow Corinne drop by drop to prolong the 
pleasure." Years after when he met her in personal intercourse, 
he wrote this short but comprehensive verdict, "She is one of the 
few persons who surpass expectations." Said a distinguished 
lady of that day, "If I were queen I would order Madame 
DeStael to talk to me all the time." Quite an amusing and 
graphic list of opinions might be collected from the diaries and 
lives of her contemporaries. We avail ourselves of a few collected 
by a review. Lord Byron goes home after an interview in which 



142 Addresses 

the nobleman had been silenced if not convinced and writes : "Her 
works are my delight, and so is she for half an hour. She is a 
woman by herself and has done more intellectually than all the 
rest of them together. She ought to have been a man." Schiller, 
the poet, "One's only grievance is the unprecedented glibness of 
her tongue; you make yourself all ear if you would follow her." 
And he says after the departure of his unfortunate visitor he 
felt not otherwise than if he had arisen from a severe sickness. 
Another great poet writes, "In company she was evermore for 
striking in — for instantaneously producing an effect." But let us 
observe she was a living, active member of society. Her sympathy 
with life, with her country and race were intense. Living at a 
time when many of the strongest men retired in despair or disgust 
from all plans to improve the political or moral condition of 
their country and gave themselves up to the physical science, she 
was ever ready to sympathize with any movement which promised 
to elevate or purify society. Richard Cecil says he often felt like 
shutting himself up in his study and saying to the brawling 
world without, "Go on, make as much noise as you please, so you 
let me alone." The temptation to do this is certainly strong and 
has overcome many who were neither weak nor corrupt. But it 
must be resisted. Alas for society when its purest and best mem- 
bers shrink from conflict and leave the enterprises of the day to 
the reckless and incompetent. Perhaps all the defects or weak 
points in her strongly marked character may be included under 
two general remarks. She w^as deficient in domestic habits and 
feelings — the distinguishing perfection of woman's character. 
We do not mean to echo the stale charge against literary women 
that they are necessarily masculine or unwomanly. It is said 
on one occasion when she met Napoleon she favored him with an 
eloquent harangue on the management of nations and his duty 
to use his power for the good of society. When she finished the 
ungallant emperor dryly and significantly asked, "Pray, Madame, 
who attends to the education of your children?" Again when 
"Norel Delphin" appeared it was supposed that she represented 
her own character in the person of her chief heroine, and that of 



J. H. Caklislb 143 

Talleyrand in the person of an old woman. This prince of wits, 
meeting her soon after, accosted her in his inimitable manner, 
"They tell me, Madame, that you and I figure in your late novel, 
both of us disguised as females." The witty Frenchman and his 
emperor were alike unjustly severe. We cannot object to her 
because she wrote and spoke on difficult subjects. She was equal 
to the demands of these high themes. She could rise to the height 
of these great arguments. Lord Brougham, in his "Statesmen 
of the Times of George III," gives a sketch of her life and char- 
acter. Her works were quoted as authority on the floor of parlia- 
ment. Surely any one, man or woman, has a right through the 
press to instruct the public on any subject which he or she 
thoroughly understands. But she indulged too far the desire 
which belongs not simply to woman's nature but to human nature 
for victory. She lived too much for effect and display. There is 
no repose in her character. She was ever on the wing. She was 
not satisfied to win and instruct, she must impress and astonish. 

She and her parents avoided, it is true, the mindless excitement 
of fashionable life, but she led, nevertheless, a life of dissipation ; 
intellectual, it is true, but dissipation still. She was a companion 
and teacher to her children, but it seems to us she did not grasp 
the thrilling conception of a quiet, happy home. "The lake of hap- 
piness is fed by little streams." This simple truth, this brilliant 
French woman never found out. It was not so much her fault 
as the fault of her age and country. Women were enticed abroad 
by the show and glitter of public scenes and lived too much in 
the streets, too much in the public eye. This distinguished 
woman, bewildered by the applause rendered to her powers, mis- 
took the means for the end — the flowers thrown hefore the 
triuTnifhant races for the ohject of the race. The other defect in 
her was a want of thorough religious principles to control her 
impulses and efforts. On this subject we are glad to be able to 
say that she was thoughtful and respectful, even serious. And 
this is no small praise to bestow on a distinguished character in 
France at that time. We have no trace of flippancy on this great 
subject. She did not treat the subject which it has been well said 



144 Addresses 

little wits ridicule and great wits admire. The woman whose 
favorite reading with her children were the works of Fenelon 
and Thomas A'Kempis had something within her which was not 
shared by many of her literary contemporaries. Of course, we do 
not venture to sit in judgment upon the sincerity and extent of 
her personal belief in the distinctive doctrine of Christianity. 
Her writings, however, it must be confessed, do not seem to be 
controlled by its spirit. 

It is melancholy to read in Wilberforce's diary his record after 
spending an evening with her. "She talked of the final cause of 
creation, not utility but beauty — did not like Paley, wrote about 
Rosseau at fifteen, thought differently at fifty. I am clear it is 
right for me to withdraw from the gay, irreligious, though bril- 
liant society of Madame DeStael." It is interesting, though in 
some aspects a sad question. What would she have been if those 
high and commanding principles and motives had subdued her 
magnetic character? If truth, instead of playing with cold 
though brilliant ray around the surface of her nature, had scat- 
tered its light through every part and sanctified the whole, what a 
monument she would have been in the dreary waste of French 
literature and life in the close of the eighteenth century. The 
want of this element placed her work under a disadvantage when 
alive and her memory now that she is dead. She lived in times 
when the foundations of the earth were out of course, when men 
and nations made the plausible but disastrous experiment of 
taking geocentric views of human life and human obligations and 
duties. It seems to us that a mind like that which she possessed 
could almost have arrested if not reversed the current of French 
history. She might have built an altar in that benighted field of 
blood and calling down fire from heaven she might have kindled 
a light which the nations of Europe might have walked in in the 
hour of darkness. She might have left for the future historian 
only the task of quoting and applying to her the simple but 
sublime description, "She stood between the living and the dead 
and the plague was staid." 

You may account for it as you please, either on sacred or on 



J. H. Carlisle 145 

secular grounds, but the tendency in reputations of this kind is 
to dissolution. In the garden of history weeds and flowers seem 
to grow promiscuously as they do in our diseased and smitten 
earth. The upas seems to flourish like the green bay tree. But 
there passes over the garden, whether irregularly we cannot tell, 
the dreadful simoon. The dispensers of earthly fame can neither 
predict its coming nor control its course. They know not whence 
it Cometh nor whither it goeth, but the weeds before its breath 
perish sooner than flowers. Reputations which cost their owners 
a life of sacrifice and toil are melting away before one's eyes. A 
few years since the newspapers announced the death of the poet 
Moore. You know his history. He threw the charms of his 
poetry around the scenes of festivity and mirth when in health 
and spirits. He was caressed by those who crowd the saloons of 
pleasure. But when he could no longer set the table in a roar, 
when age had made tremulous his charming voice, what further 
use had the world for Tom Moore? He went to his cottage at 
Staperton, perhaps we cannot say the world forgetting, but 
may we not say by the world forgot? It was his painful destiny 
like that of Southey, that his mind showed decay faster than his 
body and in this melancholy condition how few of those whose 
pulses had been quickened by his presence or writings came to see 
him or affectionately remembered him? In this country it was 
observed that many who languished and sighed over his poetry 
could not tell whether he was alive or dead. They never cared 
to inquire. He must have thought of the imagery of one of his 
own light songs and repeated it with an emphasis of meaning 
which was not in his mind when he wrote it. He was in a 
deserted banquet hall, withered garlands and dying lamps all 
around him, and a fearful silence where all had once been vocal 
with merriment and song. At the same time another poet in 
England was bending beneath the infirmities of lengthened years. 
He had turned into melody the strains not of Anacreon, but of 
one who sung on the hills of Palestine. He had pictured life not 
as a song, a feast or holiday game, but a race, a battle or pil- 
grimage. He had tuned his harp not to amuse or excite the 

10— C. A, 



146 Addresses 

evil spirit in his brother, but to drive it away. And were there 
no alleviations, no consolations on the mount near Sheffield which 
we may fear were not at Staperton cottage? Did not his country- 
men and those who spoke his language from a distant continent 
visit his peaceful home and feel repaid for a toilsome journey 
if they received a patriarchial blessing from James Montgomery ? 
And what will probably be the fate of their memories ? The one 
is a merry musician for whom we send when we wish to banish 
not only thought and care, but perhaps conscience too. The 
other is a friend by whose side we feel it a privilege to walk in 
our better and purer moments. To be sung in the halls of mirth, 
to live on the lips of those who throng the enchanted ground 
where pleasure shades into sin is the immortality of the one. To 
live in the roll of those by whose songs a militant church 
refreshes its upward march is the immortality of the other. His 
name and memory will refresh all stages of human life from the 
cradle and nursery to the bed of languor and death. Some of 
his songs will be honored in being the first that children commit 
to memory, the simplest forms of speech that infant lips can try 
— others will be the last that tremble on the lips of the dying 
saint who "enters heaven with prayer." In the presence of such 
a man we recall the solemn but beautiful lines of Dry den. O that 
he had never forgotten them himself when he sat down with his 
pen! 

"When the judging God the last assize shall keep, 
For those who wake and those who sleep, 
The sacred poets flrst shall hear the sound 
And foremost from the tombs shall bound, 
For they are covered with the lighest ground, 
And straight with inborn vigor, on the wing 
Like mounting larks, to the new morning sing." 

And does not your own sex occasionally afford an illustration 
of the darker side of this truth? There is still alive a woman 
who has powers which would have made her queen over the 
hearts and minds of men. She has written works which at one 
time promised to live. She began life with a poetical, sentimental 
religion, she has abandoned even that. She has climbed the 



J. H. Carlisle 147 

dreary steep of Atheism from which hardened men turn back in 
fear, and now presents a spectacle which, to the honor of your 
sex and the relief of ours, is seldom seen, a sceptical perhaps an 
Atheistic woman. The lonely dweller in a temple, from which 
all lovely and ministering angels have fled, she gropes among 
the deserted shrines, her only resource being to gather up the 
powers of her desecrated mind and send them hither and thither 
in search of dry husks of physical science! Can she write any- 
thing which the world will treasure up among its valuables ? All 
the dews of Castalin cannot nourish or sustain an evergreen on so 
barren a soil. Compared with her Madame DeStael is almost an 
angel of light compared with many of her contemporaries around 
whom fortune or office threw a transient glory, she is far above 
the ordinary standard of worldly greatness. But she did not 
bring her splendid ojffering within the door of the temple. She 
did not erect her memorial in the sacred spot around which the 
affections of Chuendia, lawless, capricious, as they seem, ever 
hover and from which they never will be permanently enticed 
away. She is far above the great, but we feel constrained to add 
beneath the good how far. As it is, all her excellencies only 
make us the more sensible of her defects. All she was only 
makes us the more keenly regret what she was not. If there 
shall ever arise a woman, her equal in other respects, and her 
superior in that which will be a crown and guard to her other 
excellencies, she will deserve and receive a richer wreath than the 
world has yet been called on to award. Let us hope that our 
country, which affords thousands of your sex who fill with grace- 
ful ease and power the various posts which Providence assigns 
and the exigencies of society demand, may yet surpass them all 
in the person of one who will be a better, a more splendid illus- 
tration than men have yet seen of our nature in its best estate, 
a little lower than the angels. Let us hope the nation which has 
produced, besides many others, two women who will be known 
through time as Mary the mother and Martha the wife of 
George Washington, will yet produce a Christian Madame 
DeStael. 



148 Addresses 

It is not necessary that we suggest with any minuteness of 
detail the lessons to be gathered from these views of her char- 
acter and life. Unless we have failed entirely in our purpose the 
few features we have noticed carry their own application with 
them. There is one caution which is always needed when we 
study for our instruction the life of a distinguished person. We 
are not to wait for some great occasion before we attempt to 
exhibit the qualities which we see them display on great occasions. 
This is perhaps a common mistake with the young of both sexes. 
We are waiting for some great crisis. We wish to lay some 
splendid offering on the altar of humanity. The little and com- 
monplace duties of our sphere seem too small and trifling for us 
to practice upon. It is only after many an hour of hope deferred 
we sink down in pain and weariness and make the humbling but 
instructive discovery that life is not made up of great occasions. 
Happily for the world and for us, many will never have an 
opportunity of showing how we would act on conspicuous stages. 
But each hour in its flight brings with it to every one of us the 
exactions and demands which go to make up the discipline and 
test of life. Few are permitted to speak words of wisdom by 
which a nation is saved in the crisis of its history. Who of us 
cannot speak hopefully, cheerfully, to some wearied brother and 
bid him take heart again. Few can plant or rear a cedar of 
Lebanon which will shelter an army beneath its shade or furnish 
a beam for the king's palace. Who of us cannot plant and dress 
a sprig of hyssop which will beautify the wall if it does not 
strengthen it? 

Bearing this caution in mind, has the life of this dintinguished 
woman no instruction for us? Let us in our sphere emulate 
her desire after intellectual superiority and power. Let us be the 
companion of the wise that we may be wise. Let us share her 
sympathy with her country and race. We pass by on this occa- 
sion without a single remark, either grave or gay, the notorious 
question of the hour. Woman's Rights. There is a work in 
America and in the ninteenth century for woman to do. To 
throw the refining influence of her nature around the sterner 



J. H. Carlisle 149 

features of our age, to write songs and books, to prevent domestic 
culture and discipline from running to waste in time of peace, 
to prevent war from degenerating into brutal violence and whole- 
sale murder, to nurse the virtues and patriotism of young Hedley 
Vicars as he goes forth to battle, to urge and guide him on the 
perilous path of the Christian soldier; if he returns to crown him 
with a wreath which is more than fame and win him back to the 
quiet walks of peaceful life; if he never returns to write his 
memoir so that he being dead may speak to thousands and be to 
them a landmark on the path to fame; "to supply the missing 
link" in the chain of sacred influences which should bind the 
extremes of society together ; to go as an angel of mercy to homes 
where her sisters, clothed with unwomanly rags, are sinking 
beneath their portion of the weight of care; to inspire gratitude 
and hope in the sufferer who sees her shadow gliding over his 
lonely pillow which neither mother or sister's hand hath pressed. 
These are a few of the paths on which your sisters have entered, 
and standing where the fields are white unto the harvest beckon 
you to their assistance. A want of domestic feelings and char- 
acter will be more inexcusable in us than in her. The character 
of a country depends almost entirely on the character of the 
woman of the family. This is a short train of reasons, yet it 
connects together indissolubly the purity and peace of a nation 
with the quiet and order of 10,000 unknown, unnoticed homes. 
We cannot enter upon this important subject, tempting as it is, 
but let me ask what is it a man can not do if encouraged, 
instructed and directed at home? Wlien we remember the 
domestic history of Byron there is something touching and 
instructive in these lines occurring in the well-known apostrophe 
to Napoleon at a crisis in his Avonderf ul career : 

"And she proved Austria's mournful flower 
Thy still imperial bride. 
How bears her breast the torturing hour? 
Still clings she to thy side? 
Must she too bend, must she too share 
Thy late repentance, long despair, 
Thy thornless homicide ! 
If she still loves thee hoard that gem, 
'Tis worth thy banished diadem." 



150 Addresses 

But to descend from these indefinite thoughts to a remark 
which will at least be more specific, the young woman who, 
while abroad acquiring an education acquires along with it a 
passion for excitement which renders burdensome the quiet rou- 
tines of home, humble though it be, its daily recurring exactions 
on hands and mind and temper has purchased her education at 
too high a price. It may be better to do without an education 
so-called than to pay thus for it. She may come back with foun- 
dations of her moral nature surely laid, her mind may be stored 
with the fruits of years of study, but if she comes back with 
impoverished heart, bankrupt in feelings and affections, she is 
poor indeed! Gather assiduously, gather every accomplishment 
and grace which places like that with which you are now con- 
nected can furnish, but gather them all to lay them a grateful 
thanks-offering on the dear old hearthstone of your infancy. 
E-un, my young friends, with all the bouyancy and alacrity of 
youth, range over the forest and the field in search of every rare 
flower, but from every such excursion come back with your 
trophies and dress the household gods of Home. You have com- 
mitted to memory many passages describing female character 
from Walter Scott. Let me, at the risk of being counted prosaic 
or provoking a smile, remind you that the finest eulogy he ever 
pronounced on woman was once when the poet and novelist were 
forgotten and the father spoke. When one of his daughters 
passed through the room he pointed to her and with all a father's 
pride said, "The man that marries that woman brings everlasting 
sunshine into his house." 

The want of fixed religious principles, subduing and controlling 
all her powers, correcting and elevating her views of life and 
duty, furnishing ends and motives of action, was a great defect 
in her character and will be in yours. That religion has done 
much for your sex collectively is one of the commonplace remarks 
of religious literature. While Christianity has been walking 
through the earth on her mission of beneficence and love and men 
have been scowling defiance at each other across her path or quar- 
reling about the length or color of texture of her robes, woman 



J. H. Carlisle 151 

gliding gently and noiselessly through the crowd, has ventured 
near to touch the hem of her garment and the touch has exalted 
her sex. Yet some of my sex, while professing the utmost regard 
for your interest, your happiness, and feeling, sneer and scoff 
at that which has made you all that they admire ! We will not 
enter upon this general view any farther, neither will we insist 
upon the necessity of the religious element to the perpetuity of a 
precious reputation, but the lesson we suggest is the necessity of 
religion to the development and perfection of individual female 
character. " This theme is beyond my reach. It must not suffer 
in my hands. But the subject and the occasion will not let me 
say less than this ; By whatever train of thought we approach the 
subject, whatever elements we admit into the calculation or reject 
from it, we must conclude that the treasuries of a woman's affec- 
tions are too rich to be wasted on objects earthly. Gather them 
up, my dear friends, before the dry air and hot sun have roasted 
much of their fragrance, while the dew still sparkles on them, and 
pour them at the master's feet. The virtue of women in another 
point of view seems to need peculiarly the help of religious prin- 
ciples. Will a woman who can be thrown into terror or alarm 
by a strange sound or a rough voice, who would not cross the 
street after nightfall without a protector, will she enter into life 
where strong men are fainting and failing every day without a 
protector, without a guide? 

"O what is woman — what her smile? 
Her lips of love, her eye of light, 
What is she if her lips revile 
The lowly Jesus ! Love may write 
His name upon her marble brow 
And linger in her curls of jet. 
The light spring flowers may scarcely bow 
Beneath her step and yet — and yet 
Without that meekest grace, she'll be 
A lighter thing than vanity." 



152 Addresses 



ADDRESS MADE AT THE FUNERAL OF D. E. CONVERSE, 

OCTOBER, 1899. 

Perhaps my acquaintance with our deceased friend dates 
further back than that of any one else who speaks today. More 
than forty years ago, I used to meet him at the religious occasions, 
which he loved to encourage among his people, near his home. 
During the great war, I saw him in his office, where needy women 
and wives and widows of soldiers had learned to go for help. He 
was old enough to bear his share in the burden and dangers of 
the war. He was not too old to adjust himself to new and strange 
conditions when peace returned. While some of our citizens were 
eloquently abusing his native section, and others were sitting 
down in sullen despair, he threw himself, with all his energies, 
into needed honorable work to help in rebuilding the shattered 
fortunes of our people. He depended for his success only on 
skill, prudence, patience and integrity. We suppose it never 
occurred to him that money might be sought in gambling specu- 
lations. He must have been endued to an unusual degree with the 
rare qualities to gain wealth honorably, and the still rarer qual- 
ities to use it wisely and unselfishly. A few years ago, in this 
growing city, a critical opportunity occurred, to take a signal step 
forward in the most important field of education. The place, the 
time, called for the man. Thrown in early life upon the care of 
a widowed mother, his own fine character a tribute to her worth, 
and having been privileged, in her case, to rock the cradle of 
reposing age, our friend was well prepared to put a high estimate 
on female influence and character. Quietly, without pretence or 
show, he came forward and met the grand occasion grandly. 

A man of few words, of unusual modesty, whose virtues were 
rather felt than seen, it almost seemed easier for him to sign a 
large check for the college than to take his place on the platform 
on commencement day, and receive the congratulations of his 
friends. He took all the precautions that the education imparted 



J. H. Carlisle 153 

to young women here should be safe, moral, religious. Perhaps 
no surer means could be taken by any man to embalm his money, 
and give it earthly continuance. The orphan stranger came 
among us, without means. He has given to his adopted State an 
offering such as very few of her sons, with ancestral wealth, have 
laid on her altar. 

Through coming generations, successive bands of happy college 
girls will roam over this beautiful campus, with merry songs and 
laughter. There will be one spot where their laughter and song 
will cease. With slow and solemn step they will go to the spot, 
with the flowers of each returning spring, and offering the tribute 
of their warm and grateful young hearts, they will say, one to 
another, "He loved our people, and gave us this college !" 



/ 



154 Addresses 



"THE PROPER LITERATURE OF SUNDAY SCHOOL 
LIBRARIES." 

A Sunday school library should be filled with good books, 
which should be well taken care of, and well read. On one most 
important point, the care and management of the books, I pro- 
pose to say nothing, except to call attention to this emphatically, 
as a part of our general Sunday school work, where information 
and improvement are greatly needed. An article appeared lately 
in the "Sunday School Times" with the startling heading "Is a 
Library a Blessing or a Bane?" Without sympathizing entirely 
with the conclusion, to which the very form of the question seems 
to jjoint, we can yet see how a thoughtful observer may be 
tempted to ask it. If by simply writing an order I could put a 
copy of every book which bears our imprint in the library of 
every Sunday school within our borders — let no one feel uneasy, 
I am not about to say the order would not appear — but I would 
put the books there, with the saddening conviction that the gift 
would be in a great measure useless, through general carelessness 
and want of system. Perhaps you may say, that if all these 
libraries are instrumental in the conversion, or spiritual education 
of one soul, that is worth all they cost. No one may sharply deny 
that remark, but it at once removes the entire question from the 
range of discussion as to economy of means and effort, while we 
can scarcely afford to be prodigal in either. From private con- 
versations with members here, I feel assured that some well- 
conducted libraries are represented among us, and the general 
good of this important interest requires that all possible details 
be given in the discussion which it is hoped may follow. 

Several other limitations, we hope, will be taken for granted 
in approaching this wide subject. We have not a word to say 
on the method or means by which a Sunday school literature is to 
be published, whether by help of benevolent donations, or in the 
way of self-supporting business enterprise. 



J. H. Carlisle 155 

We do not propose to speak of our periodical literature, which 
in extent and importance demands a distinct discussion. We hope 
information will be brought in from all parts of the world as 
to the degree in which 'periodicals are lessening the demands for 
tooks. 

We are not to speak of the rules which might guide us in 
selecting from the well-filled bookstores of the city a library for 
a Young Men's Christian Association. We are to speak of books 
suited to a Sunday school library. And the inquiry is not what 
kind of food we will give to the thousands famishing outside of 
church enclosures. It is as to the fare we spread for our own 
household. We speak of books suitable for a Methodist Sunday 
school. There are some hooks which must he there if the lihrary 
is at all com/plete. It must be well supplied with books which 
throw light on the Bible. This will include works on its geogra- 
phy, history, chronology, and works of travelers in Bible lands. 
Each of these topics (and these are only specimens) will open the 
door to the collection of a vast library. Take the first class, 
geography. Very few of our libraries are furnished with suitable 
helps here. It is true the main object of instruction in Sunday 
schools is not to furnish geographical knowledge. But surely, 
ignorance of geography is not a special preparation for that 
which is the main object of our efforts there. And there is great 
danger lest the pupil who is allowed to pass over the words Jordan, 
Jerusalem, Bethlehem, in blank ignorance, may bring the same 
incurious, darkened mind to the more important words, sin, faith, 
holiness, and salvation. Clear thoughts are gregarious and pro- 
ductive. And the same remark applies to the other topics men- 
tioned above. Any book whose avowed object is to throw light 
on the letter or spirit of the Bible, any book, the aim and tendency 
of which will be to make The Book more attractive, intelligible, 
or influential, may be suitable for a Sunday school library. 

We often overlook the advantages we possess in some features 
of the Bible, as calculated to interest children. Take, for example, 
those parts of the Old Testament which are made up of strange 
stories, incidents, or exhibitions of character. These are wisely 



156 Addresses 

adapted to feed the curiosity and desire for marvels, which are 
so characteristic of childhood. And in this view we can see a 
use, even in those parts which in our mistaken dignity we had 
pronounced unworthy of the book or its author. The Bible might 
have been written without any element of this kind. It might 
have been written with the abstract, peremptory style of a law 
book. It might have been like Butler's Analogy, or a mass of 
profound invulnerable logic. In that case, the mature Christian 
would have found noble exercise in tasking his powers to survey 
its bulwarks, or in gazing with exultation and pride on its massive 
walls, which no assailant could scale or command. And yet he 
could not repress a sigh when he remembered what an impassable 
gulf there was between the Bible of the man and the curiosity 
or understanding of the young. You may imagine him searching 
anxiously and vainly for some crevice, or salient point, or gro- 
tesque ornament even on the wall, to which he could bind the 
luxuriant fancies or tastes of his child. But the "foolishness of 
God" has been wiser than man. The book to which the statesman 
will yet turn, not in vain, for light on all the appalling and com- 
plicated evils of our times, is the book in which the young man 
may find the help he needs to cleanse his way. And the old 
Christian who has seen an end of all perfection, rests at last his 
sinking head on the very book from which his mother drew that 
inexhaustible fund of stories which charmed him when a child. 
Surely the heart of every earnest parent or teacher will feel an 
argument here (which his reason need not disclaim) for the 
divinity of that wonderful, many-sided Book, the guide of every 
stage of individual or national life. Let the books be multiplied, 
then, which break up into simple fragments for childhood the 
truths contained in these parts of the Old Testament, or those in 
the wonderful story of the Divine Child in the New. 

Let the library be full in Christian biography. Let it give the 
pupil some adequate idea of this rich and ever-growing volume 
of the evidences of Christianity. Let the noble army of martyrs, 
and the great crowd of witnesses who have followed in their train, 
be there, though dead, to speak to the present and future genera- 



J. H. Carlisle 157 

tions. Let the pupil see and feel that the religion which demands 
his confidence has not lived "in a corner," but has claimed a full 
share of the manhood, worth and scholarship of each successive 
age. Here will be included lives and memoirs of the men who 
planted Christianity in our western wilds, the men who brought, 
perhaps in a homely vessel, and offered, it may be with an 
ungraceful gesture, the water of life to those who felled these 
forests and laid the foundations of your greatness. We who live 
in circumstances and scenes so different from those in which these 
pioneers lived, achieved, and suffered, may still be strengthened 
and instructed by the record of their lives. Let us then continue 
with pious care to gather up and perpetuate them. It will help 
us to ask how they would meet the new and increasing evils which 
press upon us. We may be sure they would not be abashed or 
appalled by all the noise and glare of a bustling and pretentious 
age. They would lift up the warning cry in the thoroughfares, 
and chief places of concourse, as well as in the highways and 
hedges. They would seek to lay an arresting, consecrating hand 
on all the activities and powers of the age. Walking, as we have 
done today, along the crowded aisles of the Industrial Hall in this 
city, which so well represent the diversified energies of modern 
life, they would have challenged every interest represented there, 
to bring its tribute to their Master's feet. 

Our libraries should have books to explain whatever is peculiar 
or characteristic in our history or usages. Whenever a child 
growing up in reach or in sight of any part of our machinery is 
led to ask the natural question, "What meaneth this?" let there 
be a book in easy reach which will explain the erection of that 
Ebenezer. 

We will try to avoid the mistake which James Hamilton warns 
all Christian people against, that of "mistaking our denomina- 
tional lamp for a light-house," We will try to separate clearly 
the hairs on the badger skins from the altar and the ark. We 
will remember that Stephen Olin used to say if a Methodist is 
a bigot he is so as an amateur, from pure love of the thing, for 
his creed does not urge or point him in that direction. "Our 



158 Addresses 

passions overpower us, we know they are our enemies, and we 
struggle against them. Our prejudices flatter while they imprison 
us, and like madmen we mistake our jailers for a guard of honor." 
We will try and give a just and subordinate importance to all 
that is incidental or provisional. We will furnish our children 
with the means to form an intelligent and healthy attachment to 
the usages and doctrines of their fathers. 

There are hooks which must not he in our lihraries. 

No book must be there which directly or indirectly assails the 
vital truths of religion, such as the existence of God, his truth 
or wisdom, or essential attributes. The pastor or Sunday school 
teacher may at times feel it a professional duty to read such, but 
it can not find a place in our libraries for the young. 

Nor must any book be there which assails or ridicules the purity 
of woman, the sanctity of truth, the sacredness of parental 
authority and power or the unrepealable distinction between right 
and wrong. 

And as no book assailing any of these can be admitted, neither 
can any one be allowed which defends any of these, the common 
inheritance of Christian truth or any of our denominational pecu- 
liarities, in a bitter or unchristian spirit. Bishop Marvin said last 
night, there were Methodist Sunday schools to which he would 
not be willing to send his children, as every hour spent in them 
might be only a lesson in disorder. S3^mpathizing, to the utmost 
with that remark, we add to it, that there are books written avow- 
edly in defence of doctrines held by us, which books we should 
esteem it a misfortune, perhaps a life-long injury for a child to 
know or read. When the stern order is pressed home upon us, 
"Cut off the right hand," we are too often willing to propose the 
compromise, "Spare it, and I will consecrate it to the service of 
the sanctuary!" But there are tempers and passions which are 
not fitted to that service, neither indeed can be, tempers and pas- 
sions which are the natural product of just such times as those 
on which we are fallen. 

There is another class of books which must be excluded. Per- 
haps the vague and undefinable word sensational will point them 



J. H. Carlisle 159 

out. They are books which turning away from the quiet, healthy, 
nutriment we need, seek to excite. Their very pictures often 
characterize their spirit, by ludicrous or hideous distortions of 
the noble form of man or woman. Your attention has no doubt 
been called to the startling antithesis of the inspired writer: 
"And be not drunk with wine wherein is excess, hut be filled with 
the Spirit!" This seems to intimate that our nature craves and 
will have some excitement or stimulus, which common daily life 
cannot give, and we are warned not to mistake ! Drunkenness, 
then, is the culminating point in the misdirection or perversion 
of mighty impulses and aspirations! It is our weak nature 
demanding, and receiving, that which its tame and material sur- 
roundings are too poor to give. It is our religious instincts and 
thirst, rushing downward instead of upward. It is the profana- 
tion, the desecration of the chapel, the oratory of the soul. It is 
earthly, sensual, devilish, excitement, mimicking, caricaturing 
blasphemously, the holy purifying influence of the Spirit. It is 
Belshazzar bringing out the sacred vessels of the sanctuary and 
using them in profane and impure indulgences. It is Saul, turn- 
ing away from the example and teaching of Samuel, flinging his 
piteous wail on the night-winds, "I am sore distressed, for the 
Philistines make war against me, and God is departed from me 
and answereth me no more," and going in his extremity, to knock 
at the doors of the vile hag of hell for comfort and support ! 

If all this seems wandering from the subject, we can easily 
come back with a single remark. This unhealthy excitement can 
be found elsewhere than in the intoxicating bowl. There are 
attractive volumes in your bookstores, which can do the fatal 
work on imagination, reason, and will, as surely if not as instantly 
or as grossly, as the elegant saloons in which your young men are 
invited to give up manhood and purity for an hour's indulgence. 
Sunday school libraries must receive no book of this kind, at half 
price, or as a donation, even if interleaved with bank notes. But 
they must furnish materials which, both directly and indirectly, 
will remove the desire for this range of reading. We are afraid 
that in the hardness of these times many parents are failing to 



160 Addresses 

supply their families with the necessary food for their intellectual 
and spiritual life which our church periodicals and literature can 
give. A little mistaken economy here may be fatal. Its full and 
complete results may only be bounded by the melancholy family 
epitaph: "Thy money perish with thee, and the children, thou 
hast robbed and ruined!" 

A simple suggestion may be added. It may be well not to limit 
or keep down the books too closely within childish limits. In 
works of taste or imagination, a child sometimes finds profit from 
a book which an examining committee would gravely pronounce 
to be entirely beyond his years. Childhood seems often to have 
by instinct or appetency, the rare faculty "to read between the 
lines." We speak not of clear, definite knowledge now, but 
impulses or aspirations, which may be imparted by a book some- 
times, when its average matter may be beyond the young reader's 
comprehension. 

There are works which may or may not he in the library, as 
economy, or the special design, may require, as works of science, 
for example. The admission of these may depend on the answer 
you give to the question, "Are Sunday school books intended for 
Sunday reading exclusively?" If not, if in some places the con- 
gregation may choose through this library to feed the growing 
intellects of the young with healthy secular food, such as the 
parents may not be able or willing to give, then may works of 
pure science be admitted? In other words, would a volume 
written to show the marks of wisdom and design in every pebble 
in the road, and every blade of blue grass which clothes your 
valleys, be out of place in a Sunday school library? The only 
suggestion we wish to make here is, if they are admitted at all, 
let them be admitted generously, fearlessly. Do not stop the 
seeker after physical facts, and say, "You may go down or up 
this line of search, as far as you please, but you must not travel 
in that, for fear you may find something which ought not to be 
true." In all the works of God there is nothing true which 
ought not to be true. He who made this hill on which your city 
is built, gave "all the promises," and he did not in them invite 



J. H. Carlisle 161 

you to cast on him the burden of your full reliance, and in that^ 
write an unmeaning or contradictory sentence. Let the geologist 
dig on, to the center of the earth if he can. He will never bring 
up a pebble which will really contradict the written revelation. 
Let the astronomer take the wings of the morning and fly to the 
uttermost parts of the universe, he will never find a cluster of 
stars which, rightly understood, will join in the dirge of the 
Atheist, "There is no God," or the cheerless wail of the infidel, 
"No God cares for my soul." Just across that narrow street, the 
workmen are now digging a few feet below the surface of the 
earth. The noise of their tools falls on our ears at this moment, 
and at intervals through the day we hear them blasting the rocks. 
Are you sitting here in uneasiness, lest the next explosion may 
shake your city from its strong foundations? You know that 
while each shock may for an instant delay the stream of travel, 
the rocky bed beneath us is in no more danger from its vibrations 
than from the tread of a schoolgirl on the pavement. Do feel 
just as confident in the security of the revelation which God has 
given us. Though the earth be removed, and the mountains be 
carried into the midst of the sea, "He sits on no precarious 
throne." If the hill on which your capitol, "beautiful for situa- 
tion," so magnificently sits, should sink to the level of Cumber- 
land River, if the coronal of hills which offers to you a fresh feast 
of beauty every morning should disappear, and wide monoton- 
ous level fill all your horizon, your Christian men and women, 
standing in the midst of all this confusion, might lift up their 
song of confidence and trust, "Thy Throne, O God, is forever and 
forever!" 

Walking through our Publishing House a few days since, a 
friend well acquainted with its history and capacity, uttered a 
few words in the basement which have been ringing in my ears 
ever since: "That engine could do perhaps three or four times 
the work it is doing now." I was not sorry that you have a good 
engine, but that you cannot let out all its strength. In times like 
these, all our reserved forces should be thrown into the field. Let 
us hope that soon it may be strained to the utmost, as it scatters 

11— C. A. 



162 Addresses 

like snowflakes over the land a healthy, attractive, and varied 
literature, from the picture card for the child to the strong food 
for the man. 

And let us not shrink from the effort it will cost to more effec- 
tively use all our complicated machinery. When you, Mr. Presi- 
dent, were a young man, your round of duties was simple and 
specific, with perhaps a senior colleague to tell you what to do, 
and when and how to do it. Do you, sometimes, when oppressed 
by manifold claims and cares, heave an involuntary sigh for the 
ease and comparative quiet of those days? You are inexcusable, 
sir, if you deliberately wish to recall that stage of life, as a 
retreat from the engagements and responsibilities which added 
years have brought. It is so with our church. Its whole machinery 
was once quite simple. Bishop Asbury could visit every society 
in a year. We are thankful he could not do it now in a lifetime. 
But this growth involves and demands diversity, complication 
and magnitude of interests and agencies. It is the price we pay 
(rather it is the perquisite we enjoy) for expansion and growth. 
Let us more habitually '"''walk abouf'' our Zion. It is no hour's 
light promenade, but the ceaseless labor of a lifetime to survey 
it with intelligence and care. "Consider her palaces," not the 
one or two alone, within which your allotted tasks may fall, or the 
few adjoining ones, which may obtrude themselves on your daily 
round of duties. Consider them all. We often lose the expand- 
ing, educating influence of connection with a great and varied 
interest, by shrinking from the effort it requires, to take in at 
once or successively its vast proportions. I confess, this hurried 
visit has led me to enlarge my estimate of some interests, which 
I had not considered, though passively and vaguely admitting 
them all the while. And some of you may not have fully con- 
sidered the great interest which it has suddently become my duty 
to bring before you. The bishop, rushing through States, and 
coming in professional or private intercourse with thousands; the* 
editor, sending out his winged messengers to comfort or edify 
those whom he will never see; the city pastor, burdened by the 
ceaseless and untold exactions of his post; the "circuit rider," 



J. H. Carlisle 163 

meeting a few sheep in the wilderness and leaving that which 
will give them life and strength until his next monthly appoint- 
ment; the class leader, keeping alive the flame of piety in the 
hearts of his brethren ; the teacher in his recitation room, trying 
to train his, pupils and himself; all these, and more, are needed to 
do our great work. No one of these can say to the other, / have 
no need of thee. 

And let us not too curiously, in desponding or exulting moods, 
pore over our religious statistics, or vex ourselves with these 
questions: What shall our church be or do a century hence? 
Whose pattern of a tabernacle will the temple which is to abide 
most closely follow? Or within whose inclosure will it stand? 
Gilead and Manassah are His. But He may pass by the hills of 
the one and the plains of the other, to choose a spot on the border- 
line of a very large and very small tribe, where a good man 
threshed his wheat in the fear of God. Our Father's House above 
is many-mansioned, and perhaps his earthly church must continue 
so for generations to come. 



164 Addresses 



LECTURES BY DR. JAMES H. CARLISLE, BEFORE THE 
TEACHERS' SUMMER SCHOOL, SPARTANBURG, S. C. 1901. 

(June 29, 1901) 
THE SOUTH CAROLINA JUDGE. 

May, 1842, several students of the college in Columbia walked 
up Main street. They reached the courthouse, which stood on 
the same square as the courthouse today, but it fronted on Main 
street. They heard that the Appeal Court was in session. There 
was no separate Appeal Court then, but it meant that all the law 
judges would be seen there in their robes of office, sitting together 
as an Appeal Court. 

The young men went up, turned to the left side as they went 
in the courthouse, a large room, and saw the law judges of South 
Carolina, all in their robes of office. These were the judges then 
upon the bench, their names in the order of official seniority: 
Richardson, O'Neall, Evans, Earle, Butler, Wardlaw. 

In a smaller room on the right-hand side of the passage were 
these chancellors : David Johnson, Job Johnstone, B. F. Duncan, 
William Harper. 

Of course, those names are names only and nothing more to the 
most of those present. No formal biography of either of those 
men has ever been written. In Judge O'Neall's "Bench and Bar," 
and Governor Perry's two volumes of "Reminiscences," you will 
find all that is to be gathered about them except from traditions 
and local incidents. A wider acquaintance with them would 
assure you that the young hero-worshippers of that day were not 
guided by ignorant, blind State pride when they looked upon 
those men with respect and had a high opinion of the office of 
South Carolina Judge, which they kept through life. 

Tonight we are not to take up any one of those judges, nor will 
any attempt be made to sketch an ideal judge. It is the office of 
judge, it is the judgeship, it is the historic, continuous institu- 



J. H, Carlisle 165 

tion of judge that we are to look at, as you look at some features 
connected with the judgeship which are either the cause or the 
consequence of that high regard for the office of judge which the 
State has always held. 

The tenure of the office: It was for life during good behavior. 
Up to the civil war no other State in the Union put its judges 
on as high a plane as we did. There were some disadvantages in 
that. There were many advantages. It made the judge inde- 
pendent. He had no fear of buncombe before his eyes. Since 
then they are elected in all the States, their terms of office from 
four years to fourteen. We are looking at the judgeship as it was 
estimated in this State under the old law. We pay no attention 
whatever to any change in the tenure or any change that has been 
made or may be made in the office by that alteration. 

Their salaries: They were liberal, perhaps, as we gauge the 
salaries of that day. No judge ever made a fortune by his salary. 
There was not a mile of railroads then above Columbia. The 
judges rode their circuits in their own carriages. The State 
allowed them nothing for expenses beyond a liberal salary. 
Twenty-five hundred, three thousand, thirty-five hundred, were 
about the limits within which the salaries ranged during the most 
of the last century. By a rigid law a judge must receive during 
the whole of his official life the salary which he received the first 
year. It was not to be lessened or increased during his term of 
office. Therefore, at times there might be seen on the bench three 
judges, one drawing twenty-five hundred, another three thousand, 
and another thirty-five hundred. Sometimes the salary was 
raised, from $2,500 say, to $3,000. Then a singular ceremony 
took place on several occasions, which showed that the judges 
may have had a slight sense of humor or paid some regard to 
filthy lucre. A salary was raised from $2,500 to $3,000. Now, 
this took place: The Honorable A. B., judge, gravely sends in 
his resignation to the legislature of South Carolina. The legisla- 
ture gravely accepts it, appoints a day and hour when that 
vacancy is to be filled. The hour comes, the Senate goes in 
solemn procession to the House of Kepresentatives to deposit their 



166 Addresses 

ballots, the members of the House vote, a committee is appointed 
to retire into a neighboring room and count the sovereign ballots 
of a free people, the committee comes back and in substance 
reports about this: "The vacancy caused by the resignation of 
Honorable A. B. has been constitutionally and well filled by 
putting Honorable A. B. back into his own vacancy." That was 
a simple ceremony which did not take long, but it meant five 
hundred dollars a year to the Honorable A. B. He could then 
say to the treasurer when he went to draw his salary: "You 
remember some time ago the legislature raised the salary of the 
judges five hundred dollars. I have been elected since that 
change of law. Therefore, I am entitled to that." That was 
frequently done. There is no instance on reccA'd, I believe, where 
a judge who resigned for that purpose failed of re-election, 
though some came in with diminished majority. All did not 
resign. But suppose what took place again when, for instance, 
the legislature lowered the salary from three thousand to twenty- 
five hundred. I see already some of you saying with some curi- 
osity: Did a South Carolina judge ever resign to take advantage 
of a lower salary? Yes, there is a case on record to show you 
that a South Carolina judge is equal to any fortune. Let me say 
a few words about Daniel Huger, who did that. He was a 
wealthy planter in the State, did not study any profession for 
several years after his marriage, lived in Charleston until, as he 
expressed it afterwards to his friends : "I found I had to do one 
of two things : I must either give up my city life and go to my 
plantation and associate with negroes, or I must enter the bar 
and associate with lawyers." He did not hesitate long. He took 
up the study of law and was admitted, and, being a man of rare 
abilities and rare elevation of character in all its noble elements, 
he was soon promoted to a judgeship. In the course of time in 
charging the juries when speaking of the expenses of the State 
and the extravagance of them he mentioned judges' salaries as 
being too high. After a time the legislature lowered the salaries. 
His colleagues on the bench took no action. They were not called 
upon to do it. They were right in holding the State to its bar- 



J. H. Carlisle 167 

gain made with them when the State called them from their 
private practice to give them a salary, but he officially and pub- 
licly had expressed the opinion that the salary was too large, and 
he felt bound in honor as a man to resign, which he did. The 
State put him back immediately. In a few years he resigned for 
another reason. That terrible Nullification contest came on. He 
was an ardent Union man. He felt that he could serve his State 
better on the floor of the House of Representatives than on the 
bench. He resigned and the people of Charleston sent him to 
the legislature. Years later he resigned another and even higher 
place. When Mr. Calhoun, in 1842, left the Senate, as he and 
his friends thought finally, Mr. Huger was put in his place. 
Before he had finished his term as senator, great complications 
arose in our public affairs. The Oregon question came up. There 
was a serious possibility of war with England. "54 :40 or fight" 
was the mad war cry. In this extremity a great many eyes were 
turned towards Fort Hill. A toast given at that time at a bar- 
becue in the middle part of the State expressed the general feel- 
ing: "John C. Calhoun: let Achilles remain in his tent no 
longer." Mr. Huger, with rare generosity, promptly offered to 
vacate the seat. Mr, Calhoun was put in it, and the Oregon 
question was settled. 

An incident in Mr. Huger's life may be worth mentioning. In 
a warm debate in the House of Representatives an ardent nulli- 
fier in the course of an argument spoke offensively to Mr. Huger. 
Mr. Huger rose and answered his argument, and when he came 
to the personal remarks he simply said : "Personal questions are 
not to be settled here." That afternoon when the House 
adjourned he sent a formal challenge to the offending man to 
meet him at sunrise the next morning on the duelling ground. 
Friends interfered. It was put into a shape where next morning 
that offending gentleman — and it required great bravery and 
manhood to do what he did — rose in his place in the legislature 
and expressed regret for the offensive remarks, said they fell 
from him in a moment of heat and passion and did not express 
his estimate of that gentleman, and gave a warm eulogy of Mr. 



168 Addresses 

Huger. That afternoon Mr. Huger met Judge O'Neall in the 
passage in the State house. Knowing Judge O'Neall's disapproval 
of duelling, he said : "I know you think me rash yesterday. My 
daughter and her grown brother were in the gallery, they heard 
the insult given to me. I knew if I did not take it up my son 
would and mischief would follow." 

Another duelling incident is still harder to understand. Mr. 
Huger sent a challenge to his own brother-in-law, who, being an 
old army officer, had to accept. There was no question, no debate 
in his mind at all, but he said to the man who brought it : "I will 
be much obliged if you wnll tell me what oflfense I have given." 
The answer was : "I do not know. I have no information of that. 
I am only told to hand you that note." Two ^^aluable lives were 
risked. Fortunately, Mr. Huger was unhurt, the other party 
slightly w^ounded for an offense that was not known, no oppor- 
tunity given to explain. Surely that was chivalry carried to 
excess. 

The age at which the judges were usually elected: Without 
any law on the subject, it was very rare for a judge in this State 
to be elected until he had reached that age which would have 
entitled him to a place in the United States Senate. We are 
startled to learn that in Europe to this very day judges are 
frequently elected or appointed outside of the legal profession. 
It is taken for granted by us at once that no man can be a judge 
who has not had that singular experience which can come alone 
from years of training at the bar. The forms of the courthouse 
are significant. There was no one of the old thirteen States on 
more intimate relations with England than South Carolina. 
Many of our wealthy planters were educated there and sent their 
sons back home, as they expressed it, for their literary and pro- 
fessional education. It was quite easy for those who had been 
familiar with Westminster forms to bring them to South Caro- 
lina, the charge to the jury, the gowns. The judges of England 
wore wigs and gowns and bangs. Only gowns were brought to 
this State. One hundred years ago the lawyers of this State were 
wearing gowns. Since then the custom his been restricted to 
judges. 



J. H. Carlisle 169 

A few months ago the Georgia papers had an interesting dis- 
cussion about the propriety or necessity of wearing gowns. It 
was stated that only one Georgia judge in a certain grade of court 
wore a gown. That was Judge Speer. It is significant that 
Judge Speer was a South Carolina boy. I have no doubt when 
he was a boy in Abbeville he had gone to the courthouse with 
his father and looked with awe upon one of the men whose names 
I have read dressed in his gown. That gave him his ideas. The 
sheriff escorting the judge, the sheriff with a military hat and 
sword, is only a small part of the pomp and ceremony with which 
an English judge is greeted when he reaches the bench. 

The deference paid the judge: The foiTns of court etiquette: 
It has not been my privilege to attend a court for years, I may 
say, but I would be surprised if I were to go and hear any lawyer 
say: "Judge, what do you think of this?" He must use some 
more highly circuitous phrase than that or he will be rebuked. 

The first two days I ever spent in Spartanburg I spent at the 
Walker House. It was court week. I was very much struck by 
an incident which occurred. It appealed to me as a Carolinian. 
One day there was quite a crowd of country people hungry for 
dinner. When the bell rang there was a rush for the dining-room 
door. Just as they got to the head of the stairs. Judge O'Neall's 
door opened and he walked out quietly. As suddenly as if there 
had been constables there with their robes of office to hold back 
that crowd of hungry men, they stood respectfully until Judge 
O'Neall passed quietly down. Then they rushed to their places. 

The fraternity between members of the bar is the foundation 
for a fraternity between the judges. Mr. Brice, of England, says 
that the bar in several countries is hardly second to the church 
in its illuminating and civilizing influence. He speaks of the 
strong yet declining spirit of the English bar. How far the 
American or South Carolina bar keep up their corporate spirit, 
their spirit of the body, is not for a layman to decide. Perhaps 
down in this century even scenes may take place in the courthouse 
which show the lawyers must have love enough fpr each other to 
stand some downright quarreling. 



170 Addresses 

The venerable Judge Gantt, who, in 1841, retired at a ripe old 
age, having resigned from age and feebleness, when telling his 
friend, Judge O'Neall, what happened in his court some time 
before, spoke of an instance in which the lawyers seemed dis- 
posed to fight and he had told them to keep the peace. "If that 
thing occurs again, O'Neall," he said, "I think I will treat it 
differently. I think I will tell the crier to go to the front door 
and give public proclamation that two lawyers, Mr. A. and Mr. 
B, want to fight and the judge adjourns the court that all may 
witness the exhibition. I believe that will stop the lawyers from 
quarreling." 

The fraternity of the bench: I think probably the circuit 
judges of that day had a stronger fraternal feeling than the cir- 
cuit judges of today, for this reason : then they had to meet twice 
a year for several weeks and had daily social and professional 
intercourse with each other just as the Supreme Court judges 
now do. 

Judge O'Neall, in his popular addresses frequently alluded to 
his colleagues on the bench. I was struck with it as a boy when 
listening to him. He did not say Judge Butler, or Judge Gantt, 
or Judge Harper. It was "my brother Gantt" or "my brother 
Harper." It was a true expression of the strong fraternal feeling 
amongst them. It happened frequently that a lawyer while in 
active practice and visiting another court on his circuit would 
be perfectly willing to accept the hospitality of a brother lawyer 
and would spend a week with him as his guest, but when that 
lawyer is elected judge and goes to that courthouse he will not 
do that. The judge will try no case in which he ever gave an 
opinion as a lawyer. He will try no case in which even a remote 
kinsman of his is concerned. 

Judge Frost, after he retired from the bench, told Judge Perry 
this incident in his life. He was attending court in a neighboring 
State, watching the interests of the Blue Ridge Railroad, of 
which he was president. Judge Frost was fond of using moder- 
ately the best brandy that Charleston could furnish. He took 
some of it with him. He invited some lawyers to share it with 



J. H. Carlisle 171 

him. They said to him: "Ask the judge." His answer was: "I 
should be very glad to meet his Honor socially, but I have some 
hesitation about it. Etiquette in my State would forbid it. 
Neither on the bench nor at the bar have I ever known a lawyer 
to offer to treat a judge who had just had a case before him." 
"Oh," said these lawyers, "we don't think anything of that here." 
So, the judge was invited. These are little things unless we 
neglect them. A juror is often guarded by a constable for fear 
some one may approach him on the subject which he has under 
advisement. There is no need to appoint a guard for a judge in 
this State. He is sufficiently guarded by all the traditions and 
precedents of his office. The oldest lawyer would not dare, unin- 
vited, to approach a judge about a subject then under debate. 
A young lawyer asked a chancellor, "When may I expect a 
decree to be handed down in this case?" The chancellor rebuked 
him and said: "If I answer that, you will want to know what 
the decree will be." 

The judge in politics: Our State has always allowed a judge 
to go to the polls like a citizen and deposit his vote without ques- 
tion. We would be shocked to hear of a judge being president 
of a Democratic club or a Republican club. For several years 
after the Revolution the judges were not forbidden, as they are 
now, to hold office of profit or trust. Judge Grimke at one time 
held two offices which are considered the highest in South Caro- 
lina and were then. He was at the same time speaker of the 
house of representatives and a judge on the bench. 

The partisan press for that reason respect a judge. Every 
decision that a judge makes disappoints some party. It is very 
rare in South Carolina that you find the papers attacking the 
opinion of a judge. The private character, the official ability of 
our judges, protect them. 

There was an earnest debate in the legislature in 1845, and a 
law was passed that after the passage of that law and after it had 
been sanctioned by another legislature, for it was a constitutional 
measure, that every judge must vacate his seat at 65 years of age. 
There was a singular mistake made the night that law was 



172 Addresses 

ratified. The Honorable Angus Patterson, president of the 
Senate, signed his name as Speaker of the House ; the Honorable 
William F. Colcock, signed his name as President of the Senate. 
That was supposed to \^tiate the whole law. The next year a 
series of very able articles came out in the Columbia and Charles- 
ton papers opposing the change. The articles were known to be 
from the pen of Edmund Bellinger, a prominent member of the 
Barnwell bar, the articles appearing under the head of the "Black 
Sluggers." Public opinion was so comj^letely changed that no 
attempt was ever made after that to alter the age or tenure of the 
judge's office. 

Two years after that a very striking scene took place in 
the House of Representatives. Judge Richardson, by age the 
president of the Court of Appeals when it met, had reached his 
seventy years. In some parts of the State there were rumors of 
physical and mental infirmity. No suggestion of official unfair- 
ness whatever. A resolution was offered in the House that his 
place be declared vacant by reason of physical and mental infirm- 
ities. The judge had notice of it. The venerable man looked 
ui3on it as not simply a blow at him but at the judiciary. He 
respectfully gave the legislature to understand that he would 
throw himself on his reserve rights as a man, as a judge. It was 
a striking scene that day. The galleries were crowded, the halls 
were crowded. A space was kept in one aisle for a little table 
with law books. There the venerable judge was seated with 
William C. Preston on one side and Edmund Bellinger on the 
other, the lawyers who asked to help him if need be. At the 
proper time the Honorable William F. Colcock, as Speaker, in 
his rich blue silk robe, a fine specimen of manhood he was, rose 
and in very respectful terms told Judge Richardson the House 
was ready to hear him. Judge Richardson rose and made a very 
long, able speech. It settled his case. It left him undisturbed 
as judge for three years until death relieved him. 

One incident was impressive. It might have been expected that 
Speaker Colcock would take his seat as soon as Judge Richardson 
began to speak, as the Speaker alwaj'^s sat down Avhen some one 



J. H. Carlisle 173 

else had the floor, but the venerable man stood there, erect, eyes 
fixed respectfully on Judge Richardson, He stood up during the 
whole time, during a very long speech. At the close of it Judge 
Richardson gratefully acknowledged with appreciation the 
respect due him. It may have been easier for him. It is easy 
for any South Carolinian to respect the past. 

I digress a moment to make a statement which may not be 
without interest to the Spartanburg people here. Judge Colcock, 
father of the Speaker, told Governor Perry an incident connected 
with his first visit to Spartanburg, then a little village. He said 
two smart Charlaston lawyers came up here from Charleston, a 
very long, tedious journey. The first night they got here, he said, 
the whole space in front of the courthouse, which stood where the 
Duncan building stands now, was filled with fires, lightwood 
knots kindled into blazes, and between one and two hundred men 
with coats and vests off, gathered in groups, ready for miscel- 
laneous, contemporaneous fighting all around. The Charleston 
lawyers must have thought they had reached beyond the bounds 
of civilization. The next morning they started early to the City 
by the Sea, leaving their legal business to take care of itself. 

Has there ever been an unworthy judge in South Carolina? 
That question must be divided. There was a time when we were 
dependent on England for our judges. They appointed citizens 
here or imported them from England who knew nothing of law. 
On one occasion at least Dr. McCrady is warranted in saying: 
"An ignorant, vulgar, illiterate ignoramus was sent from London 
to be Chief Justice of the Province of South Carolina," Leave 
all that page of our history out of view. Since we have taken 
possession of it with an organized government, has there been 
any impeachment of judges? That question must be answered 
3^es, with the explanation which will follow it. Two impeach- 
ments have been attempted. One failed to carry, the other suc- 
ceeded. Judge Grimke was impeached in 1811, not for personal 
or official reasons. His integrity was not questioned as a man 
or as a judge. His impeachment was rather on other lines than 
morals. The old judge had been an officer in the Revolution, who 



174 Addresses 

perhaps carried too far into peace the stern exactions and defer- 
ence required in war times. 

He is to some extent connected with the history of Spartanburg. 
He must have been struck, in driving his carriage up the Bun- 
combe road to the mountains, with a beautiful little hill on the 
Buncombe road. He bought that land and called it Belmont, a 
name that it bears today. The judge built a summer house there. 
Years ago I had the pleasure of being a guest, on top of that 
mountain, of an excellent family. Mr, Dillard, in passing to his 
house, showed the very spot that had been pointed out to him as 
the place where Judge Grimke's house had stood. The judge 
leveled the top, planted a grove and prepared a home. I 
remember hearing the late Simpson Bobo say that when he was 
a small boy he was sent there on some message. The surroundings 
impressed him very much, being much above those to be found in 
this part of the State at that time. Now, you see a little weakness 
of Judge Grimke that made him overbearing and led to the 
attempted impeachment. He believed that all these people in the 
upper Carolina were an inferior race altogether. If any of the 
farmers or their wives came on business, the judge himself or the 
servants would meet them at the front gate or the doors. The 
ladies of his family could not meet the men or women of the 
neighborhood even to buy from them a pound of butter or a dozen 
eggs. That feeling explains the attempted impeachment, but it 
failed. The second impeachment of another judge, ended more 
sadly, eighteen or twenty years afterwards. He was a Revolu- 
tionary soldier, too. He was one of Marion's men. He had been 
on the bench twenty years. The old soldier judge could not resist 
the temptation, the insidious approaches of that habit which has 
disgraced the teacher in his chair, the professor in his recitation 
rooms, the lawyer in his honorable place at the bar, the judge on 
the bench and the minister in the pulpit. Drunkenness was the 
charge and the proof was easy. The Senate of South Carolina, 
acting as a court of trial, many senators literally with tears, it is 
said, voted guilty. They passed complimentary resolutions on his 
integrity. They voted him a year's salary beyond the vacation 



J. H. Carlisle 175 

of his office, but they said: The bench of South Carolina must 
be a sober bench. It made its mark in this State. Two or three 
judges since then have approached very near the danger line of 
that habit which strikes the two extremes of society, the intel- 
lectual, the refined, and the coarse, the gross, the selfish. In one 
or two cases an early death or resignation has avoided another 
impeachment. 

Now, then, we come back to the question. No judge of South 
Carolina has ever been impeached for corruption in office. I 
believe you can go further. So far as my knowledge goes, no 
one has ever been susj)ected of selling or perverting justice. At 
the time that we began, the middle of the last century, the judges 
had a beautiful custom. They all boarded at the same house in 
Columbia, unless, as sometimes happened, a judge lived there. 
They did not board at any of the hotels. That would have been 
unseemly. They boarded with an excellent widow lady at the 
comer of Taylor and Main streets. I lived on that street for a 
few years and it was my privilege twice a year, May and Decem- 
ber, very often to see on the opposite side of the street eight or 
ten judges and chancellors slowly taking their constitutional walk 
for exercise before they went on the bench. It was an object 
lesson to see Judge O'Neall and Judge Harper, the judges of that 
day. 

Some lawyers could not afford to take a judgeship. They made 
more money and required more. James L. Petigru, by common 
consent at the head of the South Carolina bar, would never allow 
his name to go before the legislature. He said pleasantly: "I 
have to work too hard for my credit." I suppose his fees at any 
one session would be equalto several salaries of a judge. He 
began life a teacher. It is astonishing how many men began in 
the school room and they either get below it or above it after- 
wards. Mr. Petigru ran for an office in the Beaufort High 
Schools. He failed to get it. If he had succeeded it might have 
turned the current of his life. He said afterwards in that 
pleasant tone of humorous satire of which he was master: "I 
perhaps made a mistake. It might have been more pleasant for 



176 Addresses 

me to spend my life teaching young men literature than trying 
to teach some judges law." 

During the civil war there were months, years, in which there 
was no court in South Carolina. The courthouses were closed. 
Plaintiff, defendant, witnesses, lawyers, jurors, were elsewhere. 
Our society was then in a very strange, I might almost say an 
unnatural, condition. Our society was pervaded and held 
together by a strong, swift, contagious enthusiasm in one great 
object, but with all that those who were old enough then to notice 
felt appreciably a letting down of society. There was a giving 
way of the protection, the underguard of society. Oh, it was 
almost as if we should feel the ozone and the oxygen disappear- 
ing from the pure air that we had to breathe. May those who are 
teaching never know that experience in your day. You cannot 
measure the educating, restraining influence of fine courthouse 
buildings like we have, regular court sessions, competent judges, 
intelligent, active lawyers, the whole machinery of justice going 
on regularly. It cannot be measured. You noticed our fine court- 
house? Did you notice the surroundings ? A fine jail in the rear, 
a fine school house next door, a combination most striking. You 
furnish material for the juries, the judges, the intelligent wit- 
nesses, for the prisoner's dock and the jail. They come from your 
school. 

One or two incidents. There was a young lawyer in a county 
of this State in the early part of the last century. He fell out 
with his brother. They would not speak to each other. The 
lawyer moved to another part of the State, became a judge. It 
was his duty to go back after twelve years and hold court in his 
old district, and by a singular coincidence his brother was fore- 
man of one of the juries. Those two men were within a few feet 
of each other every day that week, recognized each other politely 
and officially as judge and foreman, but in no other way. That 
two men who as children had said their prayers around one 
mother's knee and gone to bed in one little trundle bed could 
behave that way, showed a tremendous but fiendish power of 
will, and a mastering, a repression, a crucifixion of the proudest 



J. H. Carlisle 177 

impulses of the heart that make it a hideous object lesson. I do 
not present that as a trait of the South Carolina judge to be 
imitated or admired. 

Take an earlier incident in his life which will show you another 
side of his strong character. In early professional life he was 
irregular in his habits. He spent many hours with boon com- 
panions which should have been spent at his home or his office. 
One day late in the evening before return day a client brought 
fifty-four notes to be put in suit. The lawyer was neither to be 
found at his home or his office. His intelligent wife very often 
helped him with 'clerical work and was familiar with legal forms. 
Night came. She went to the office and struck a light and shut 
the door and sat down to her work. Hour after hour passed. 
Very early the next morning, the lawyer from his revels was 
passing home. Seeing a light in his office he went to examine it. 
When he looked in he saw that which sobered him. His faithful 
wife, broken down by physical toil, mental anguish, disappointed 
hopes and the humiliation and mortification that a wife alone can 
know, had gone to sleep, her head on the table. She was aroused 
by his coming in and pointed to her work, fifty processes and 
writs all prepared in regular form ready for return day. He met 
the crisis. He fell on his knees at her feet. He pledged her the 
honor of a man, the honor of a husband that no longer should 
strong drink crush out the undying womanly instincts for a 
happy home. It is pleasant to note that a pledge made under 
those circumstances was kept to the end. Looking back to that 
hour afterwards he said : "From that hour everything I touched 
turned to gold." Political dissension drove him from this State 
as it drove very many at that time. He went West. His abilities 
came to the front. His old schoolmate. President Andrew Jack- 
son, they had been to school together in York County, offered him 
a seat on the Supreme Bench of the United States, which he 
declined. 

I remember hearing Judge Longstreet say that he was the first 
Georgia judge that opened his meetings with prayer. He was 
not a minister. He was not a member of any church, but the first 
time he took his seat as judge he said to his lawyers: "If any- 
body needs divine help, we need it. We are the officers of justice 

12— c. A. 



178 Addresses 

in the temple of justice. If you don't object, I will open each 
session of our court with a short invocation," which he did. Our 
courts have had nothing of that kind. In some parts of the State 
there is a singular and a solemn usage. On the day of execution 
a poor criminal was taken from the jail and on his way to the 
scaffold was taken to the courthouse and a sermon was delivered 
by some preacher invited for the occasion. Our legislature before 
the war never had chaplains nor any religious services. It is 
pleasant to know that the Federal judges who have been appointed 
from the South Carolina bar have been worthy of their high 
position. 

Last year the members of the bar in several counties passed 
complimentary resolutions in memory of three of the distin- 
guished ex-judges, their names in alphabetical order as well as 
the order in which they died, being T. B. Fraser, W. H. Wallace, 
I. D. Witherspoon. From some knowledge of each of those men, 
more or less intimate and extending in each case over half a cen- 
tury, I am prepared to say that South Carolina has not lost the 
breed of noble blooded or of good judges. Wlien Edward VII 
dies it will be proclaimed through the streets of London : "The 
King is dead, long live the King," the meaning being, George 
may die, Victoria may die, Edward may die, the sovereign of 
England, the sovereignty of England never dies, knows no lapse 
or pause. We as citizens of this State may all join in the fervent 
aspiration: let this judge or that resign or die, "long live the 
South Carolina judge." 



(July 4, 1901.) 
WILLIAM C. PKESTON. 

Mr. Francis Preston, of Virginia, was a member of Congress in 
Washington's administration. Taking his family with him to 
Philadelphia, then the capital, his son, William Campbell Pres- 
ton, was born there in 1794. He died in Columbia in 1860. 



J. H. Carlisle 179 

There were two little points connecting Mr. William Preston 
with George Washington which he used to speak of to his friends. 
He said George Washington and Mrs. Washington called on him 
when he was only a few days old. His parents being great friends 
of Mr. and Mrs. Washington, they took the earliest opportunity 
to bring congratulations to the happy parents, and took up the 
little fellow in their arms and give him their blessing. The other 
was, Mr. Preston said, when he reached his full growth he was 
just as tall as George Washington, six feet, three inches. It may 
be said just here that he had not George Washington's fine per- 
sonal bearing, however. Mr. Preston's figure when at rest was 
rather awkward and careless, a little stooping in the shoulders. 
His face when at rest was not attractive, his eyes lustreless unless 
aroused. Then they flashed, but when engaged in speaking he 
was another man entirely. He straightened up and was a very 
striking looking man. Yet, you could scarcely pass him in the 
street without turning around for a second look at him. You felt 
that there is a man that nature has put a stamp on. 

He graduated in 1812, Judge O'Neall taking second honor in 
the class, and Mr. Preston the first appointment, as we would call 
it in later years. The subject for his graduating speech was the 
"Character of Thomas Jefferson." Soon after graduating he and 
some other boys were in the company of the eccentric John Ran- 
dolph. Randolph's tongue was loosed that day as usual. He got to 
speaking about education, a very easy subject to talk upon and to 
find fault with. He said, severely looking around upon the group 
of young men : "There has never been a young man thoroughly 
educated north of the Potomac river." Preston said he began to 
put on airs, to feel his triumph, he was the only boy from a 
Southern college in the group. His triumph was short-lived, for 
the cynic after a moment's pause continued, "Nor south of it 
either." 

Mr. Preston was able, through the liberality of his father, to 
take an extended tour in Europe which did him a great deal of 
good. He carried letters which gave him access to men whose 
acquaintance it was a privilege and an education to make. 



180 Addresses 

Thomas Campbell, the poet, for instance, gave him a letter to 
Walter Scott. Walter Scott was quite struck with the young 
American and predicted his future career. He met there his coun- 
tryman, Washington Irving, and a friendship began between 
them which lasted for life. Mr. Preston said that one day in the 
streets of London he noticed a whitehaired man walking along 
and a group of persons following him. It was Samuel Taylor 
Coleridge, a crowd following him just to listen to the music of 
the old man's voice as he would discourse on different themes 
of metaphysics and psychology. 

Returning, he studied law with William Wirt, came to this 
State to practice, entered upon a very good practice and entered 
the legislature in 1828. The nullification question was then 
coming to the front. He threw himself among the nullifiers. I 
had the privilege of spending an hour with Judge David L. 
Wardlaw a few years before his death. Knowing that he had 
led a very prominent life for years, I ventured to say to him: 
"Judge, can you now instantly recall what you consider the 
highest strain of oratory you ever heard?" Without a moment's 
hesitation, he said: "President Jackson's force bill reached 
Columbia by the stage late Sunday night, early in December, 
1832. The next day was Monday, on which the legislature usually 
adjourned to attend the commencement of the South Carolina 
College. It was felt they could not give the day that direction. 
They met as usual. As soon as the House was organized, the 
Speaker laid the force bill before the House. "Then," said Mr. 
Wardlaw, "Colonel William C. Preston, a member of the House 
of Representatives from Richland District, sprang to his feet and 
got the floor. He instantly reached and for fifteen or twenty 
minutes retained the highest strain of effective eloquence that I 
ever remember to have heard." But for lack of good reporters 
that day, all that has perished. 

There was a case in court that gave Mr. Preston a great reputa- 
tion. He was then reaching the prime of his magnificent career 
as a jury lawyer. It perhaps may interest you just for a few 
minutes. A young man in Columbia was about to graduate in 



J. H. Carlisle 181 

college. He asked a few of his friends to go and take supper 
with him. After that they proposed to go to a circus which 
showed that night. The construction of the canal and buildings 
at that time had brought a large crowd of foreign mechanics to 
the city, and there had been some friction between some of that 
class of people and the students. This young man and his guests 
went under the circus tent. How the difficulty arose was never 
clearly shown, but during the night's performance there was a 
general melee, students and mechanics. Pistols fortunately were 
not common then, but blows were exchanged and knives drawn 
and it got to be a general public disturbance. This young man, 
the student, found himself on the floor, a crowd over him and on 
him and a strong Irishman beating him. He managed to draw 
either a knife of a small dirk, I can't say now positively which, 
and make one desperate effort in self-defense. It was fatal. As 
soon as that was known, of course, it added to the terror of the 
exciting scene. The wild animals in their cages at the sight and 
scent of blood became furious and the crowd was more like wild 
animals than men. The young man was hurried to his home, 
almost his reason dethroned. He was not a drinking young man, 
not a man to be found in such a crowd as that except just under 
those circumstances. His friends, among them. Honorable Pres- 
ton S. Brooks, sat up the whole night with him. He was taken 
out on bail, of course. Some friends advised his father to send 
him out West, then a new unknown continent almost, where he 
might escape capture. They said to his father: "You are well 
able to pay the bondsmen for any forfeit that they may incur." 
"No," said his Scotch-complected father, "my unfortunate boy 
must appeal to the protection of the laws of his country, nothing 
else." The day of the trial began. The family of the defendant 
being large, there was a great crowd, many ladies in the crowded 
courthouse, and Mr. Preston, a friend of the family, had more than 
a professional interest in the scenes before him. Two salient points 
of that speech long lingered in tradition. In one of his flights, 
making a peculiar gesture, he struck off his large brown wig 
which he wore for years, a very conspicuous part of his dress. It 



182 Addresses 

fell on the table before him. He snatched it up, threw it down, 
swept on with his tide of oratory, did not lose control of his 
audience for a moment, hardly a little boy in the crowded gallery 
had a chance to see the ludicrous part of it, he kept complete 
control of that whole house. A little later in his appeal, keeping 
his eye on the jury no doubt and watching them, man by man, to 
see how far he had control of them, he went up at last to the 
prisoner's dock, threw his arms around the young prisoner and 
said: "Gentlemen of the jury, won't you spare the boy?" Sobs 
were heard and tears were seen in the jury box that told that 
anxious crowd the boy was saved. "Not guilty" was very easily 
and rightly the verdict. 

After that triumph of Mr. Preston there was no doubt, if there 
had been any before, that he was the first jury lawyer in the 
State. 

About that time he went to the Senate to take the place of 
ex-Governor Miller. He spent nearly six years, resigning the last 
few months of his term. There is no great measure of statesman- 
ship connected with his name in the Senate, yet he never spoke 
five minutes on the most ordinary, trivial routine, that he did not 
say something that sparkled, something that struck in the memory 
of intelligent listeners. Unfortunately, he and Mr. Calhoun were 
not on cordial tenns. It reached a stage at last when they did 
not even recognize the ordinary civilities of life to each other. 
Andrew Jackson had repelled all the Democrats of the State, and 
it was easy for some of them to stay repelled, and falling under 
the magnetism of Henry Clay, some more or less decidedly 
became Whigs. Yet Mr. Preston could always acknowledge and 
appreciate Mr. Calhoun's ability. In 1839 the question of our 
northeastern boundary came up with England, a very perplexing 
question. The treaty came before the Senate. Mr. Calhoun met 
it as he met every other crisis. Mr. Preston could not go with 
the others to congratulate him, but he rushed out of the Senate 
chamber, hurried to the House of Representatives, sought out his 
South Carolina delegate and said, "I must give vent to my feel- 
ings. Mr. Calhoun has settled that northeastern boundary. He 



J. H. Carlisle 183 

has covered himself with glory. The senators are all crowding 
around to congratulate him." 

1840 being a presidential year was perhaps the greatest year 
of Mr. Preston's life or his public political effort. The fight then 
was Martin Van Buren, Democrat, William Henry Harrison, 
Whig. I have heard Dr. Warren DuPre often speak with admi- 
ration of an effort he heard from Mr. Preston in Baltimore. The 
Young Men's Whig Club of Baltimore invited Henry Clay and 
William C. Preston to address them. It was an immense crowd. 
It was asserted to be a fact at that day that Martin Van Buren 
was two-sided in his politics, that he had prepared two addresses, 
one for circulation in the North, the other for the South. ^^Tien 
Mr. Preston came to speak, he said that those standing in front 
of him were startled in a moment. He distinctly split his face 
into two separate hemispheres of expression. There was a patron- 
izing quiet look for the Soath and a wicked leer and a twinkle 
for the North. The crowd saw it and forced him by applause to 
continue it for a moment. He passed down into Virginia and 
the old people say that not since the days of his great kinsman, 
Patrick Henry, had there been anything like the enthusiasm 
that followed William C. Preston. 

It must have been about that time that a Carolinian who was 
in Savannah was listening with a very large crowd that had gone 
to hear William C. Preston. The South Carolinian noticed a 
gentleman sitting by him, gazing intently at the speaker, at times 
convulsed with laughter, at times his eyes swimming with tears. 
This man turned to the South Carolinian and says: "Wlio is 
that?" He said, "William C. Preston." "Who?" "William C. 
Preston." "Who?" and he had to squall into his ear, "It is 
William C. Preston, of South Carolina." "Well, stranger, I am 
as deaf as a post. I don't hear a word he says, but don't he go 
through the motion splendid?" 

In 1842 he resigned the last few months of his senatorial career. 
He came to South Carolina an unpopular man. South Carolina 
did not have much toleration for the Whigs. There was a bust 
of William C. Preston in his old society, the Euphradian. In 



184 Addresses 

closely looking at it, you would find the cut of a knife across his 
face. It was as if some fiery young Democrat had gone there 
and gone through the motion, "Yes, I would cut your throat if 
I could." That showed the feeling with some. Mr. Preston 
explained some of his changes of vote by the different circum- 
stances of the times, that a change of circumstances might involve 
a change in some opinions of statecraft. The opposite party took 
hold of that, and said the "C" in Mr. Preston's name meant 
William "Circumstances" Preston, the "C" in Mr. Calhoun's 
name meant John "Constant" Calhoun. 

However, in 1843 the city council of Charleston were sensible 
enough to let politics take care of itself and asked Mr. Preston to 
deliver an eulogy on his late friend, Hugh S. Legare, which he 
did. It is one of the few finished productions from Mr. Preston's 
pen. Unfortunately, he did not write more. It is worth careful 
reading. There is one passage in it that struck me when I read it. 
He said: "It is the cant of criticism to oppose all rhetoric, all 
eloquence to logic, as if they were opposed. They are not so. 
Logic ascertains the weight of an object, rhetoric gives it 
momentum. The difference is between the vis inertia of a mass 
of metal, and the same ball hurled from the cannon's mouth." It 
was certainly a very fine expression. 

There was another sentence that I want to call attention to. 
He was speaking about Mr. Legare's studies. It was when he was 
in Europe and said he sat twenty-four hours abstractedly engaged 
in some subject that was before him. A few years after that I 
was a young teacher and wanted to impress my boys with the 
advantage of abstraction or concentration, and I mentioned that 
incident. I recall distinctly the face of a little boy in the class, 
a poor fellow neither then nor ever after to know what concen- 
tration meant nor abstraction nor even study, but this was too 
much for him and he broke right out: "I know, Mr. Carlisle. 
That man was asleep." I do not know that that lessens the diffi- 
culty much to think of a 24-hour sleep in the same position. A 
few years ago a legal friend of mine in another part of the State 
with a desire to verify quotations, which is a very fine thing in a 



J. H. Carlisle 185 

boy and a very good thing for a layman, wrote me: "Did you 
ever quote a saying like that: Mr. Legare twenty-four hours 
absorbed in study?" So, now, to settle the matter, I will give you 
an exact quotation as I copied it this day from the printed page, 
and you can make what you please out of it, speaking of Mr. 
Legare : "On one occasion he found himself at breakfast Sunday 
morning on the same spot where he had breakfasted the day 
before, having remained in it four and twenty hours." Is it 
worth while for you to watch some of your fellow teachers to see 
if they remain too long at the breakfast table? 

Judge O'Neall said: "I have heard the most distinguished 
lawyers of South Carolina. I am sure I have heard as good, 
logical, legal argimients from Mr. Preston as I have ever heard 
from any one else," and yet there were lawyers that would try 
to break the force of his rhetoric by sneers. A lawyer of Colum- 
bia, famous for his plain style, no poetry or sentiment about it, 
following Mr. Preston, once said: "Gentlemen of the jury, you 
have heard rhetoric. I will give you some law." The only differ- 
ence between Mr. Preston and many of those lawyers was this: 
he could frame as logical and close an argument as they could. 
He could hurl it from the cannon's mouth, which they could 
not do. 

In December, 1843, his old society, the Euphradian, asked him 
to deliver the literary address, which he did. \Vlien asked, as 
usual, to publish it, he very properly declined, saying, "I spoke 
from scanty notes." It was oratory, but its publication, stripped 
of its delivery, would not have added to his reputation. I recall 
one salient sentence. Let me say first that Patrick Henry's 
famous speech about Independence had been so worn out that no 
student for years had dared to speak it as a piece of declamation. 
What a pity college boys will wear out good things. I can give 
you an incident to show how thoroughly worn it was. When the 
boys were going to the mess hall, some young fellow in an ora- 
torical mood would cry out: "I know not what course others 
may take, but as for me, give me coffee or give me tea." That 
will show you where that quotation stood. Mr. Preston was 



186 Addresses 

speaking of the advantage of oratory. He was telling us it was 
no contemptible gift. It had been considered no contemptible 
gift when Patrick Henry aroused the people, and then after a 
sentence or two, getting ready for it, he came over the same quo- 
tation. The whole body wanted to break out into long applause. 
They had never heard that quotation said that way before. They 
never had seen the depth, the height, the richness, the fullness of 
meaning that he threw into it. 

In 1844 Mr. Clay visited Columbia as the guest of Mr. Preston. 
It was understood that he wished no public reception. Mr. Pres- 
ton was then living in his own house one square north of the 
college. I remember seeing Mr. Preston and Mr. Clay riding in 
Mr. Preston's open carriage around the campus grove. If a South 
Carolina boy lifted up the window and hollered "Hurrah for Cal- 
houn'' just then, it did not surprise anj^body, and did not disturb 
either of those men any more than it disturbed their driver or his 
horse, and the boy had his fun. That night Mr. Preston gave a 
little reception, just a social feature. Among the students invited 
was one of the handsomest, most intellectual men of our class. 
There was at that time in Columbia a very attractive young lady, 

Miss Lucy . She died only a year or two ago after a 

long and beautiful life. Very many were fond of paying her 
attention. During that evening this student was glad to pay her 
all possible attention. Late in the evening Colonel Preston was 
throwing himself about with all his ease and grace as host. The 
parties were paired off in the piazza and the front yard. He met 
this student with Miss Lucy on his arm, and said he : "Mr. Parker, 
I meet you frequently but nun quam sine luce^ 

That j^ear was also a presidential year, and there was a little 
presidential campaign in Columbia. There were not Whigs 
enough to make it interesting. A few years later when a Dem- 
ocrat was asked Avhether he could pledge the State for Polk he 
said there were not enough Whigs in South Carolina to act as 
mile posts on the public roads. There were a few Whigs, how- 
ever, and they invited Colonel Preston to speak to them. A 
student whose father had been a classmate of Preston's spoke a 



J. H. Carlisle 187 

little about getting some of the boys and going up there and 
hissing Preston down, but wiser counsels prevailed. No such 
attempt was made. Some of us students did go to hear him, glad 
to hear him on any occasion. There wasn't any great crowd. As 
he came in leaning on his arm w^as his venerable mother, the last 
time probably she ever heard her distinguished son speak. I only 
recall one figure. He still remembered his friend Van Buren. 
He pictured the ship of state, with sails spread, colors flying, 
everything in magnificent order. Now, Henry Clay was the man 
that they were trying to stand upon her deck and move her on 
the people's tack. Van Buren was a garfish, following in the 
waves for any offal that might be thrown out. In the first part 
of the speech when he had occasion to use Mr. Martin Van 
Buren's name he spoke it. Then a little later he would make a 
painful expression of face as if the words Martin Van Buren 
really hurt him. This expression of face got a little more and 
more painful and at last he got so that when he came to where 
Martin Van Buren's name ought to be, he would just pause a 
moment, make a fearful twist of the face in silence and pass on, 
could not mention the name. 

In 1845 he was elected president of the college under peculiar 
circumstances. It was not my privilege to be under him as a 
student. Our class graduated only a few months before he was 
elected. I heard his inaugural. Anything like oratorical display 
then would have been out of order. He read it calmly, quietly, 
evidently with some emotion, just expressing the feelings with 
which he came into close contact with a body of young men, 
literary students. A single salient quotation is all that I can give. 
He was speaking about the endlessness of knowledge, that we 
cannot know everything, and used this beautiful figure: As you 
enlarge the circle of light you only enlarge the surrounding circle 
of darkness, a very beautiful figure to express what has been 
expressed in different ways. Coming to a forest, the larger the 
clearing you make, the more trees on the outside of it. We pur- 
chase every increase of knowledge with an increase of our 
ignorance. Every new thing that we know only implies the 



188 Addresses 

things that we do not know. All those different forms of expres- 
sion have been used to express the same thought, which is well 
worth quoting and being emphasized by a convention of teachers. 

There were troubles in his day between town boys and students. 
It is not certain that any one else could have managed then better 
than he did. It is said that on one occasion he had some reason to 
fear that some of the boys might go out into town that night, not 
intending particularly to raise a row, but certainly not particu- 
larly intending to avoid a difficulty. He called the boys together 
under the elm trees and made them a fine speech. In substance, 
stripped of all his oratory, it would be about this: "Boys, this 
campus is yours. This soil is sacred, every foot of it. No profane 
invader shall be tolerated on this campus. I hand it over to you. 
Take care of it." The boys unanimously and vociferously resolved 
they would stand by that campus and they defied the whole 
police, the militia of Columbia and the United States army to 
drive them out of their campus. The wily president went to his 
house that night satisfied that all would be quiet on the Con- 
garee that night. He knew they never would invade the campus, 
but he had a little fear that Columbia might be invaded by a few 
hot-headed and rash young fellows, but as they had positively 
declared they would stay inside the fort and protect it, he slept 
quietly that night, I have no doubt. 

Very early in his president's career, he surprised the students 
and the town by coming out without his wig, a large reddish- 
brown wig that was so conspicuous, and strange to say he came 
out, an unusual thing I think at his age, with a very good crop 
of white hair. He never wore his wig after that. One of the 
impudent wits of the campus said that the president's head had 
been wool gathering during that season. Once in the college 
library he met some students and said to them pleasantly: "I 
must find out whether Homer refers to the man on Scio's (Skio's) 
rocky isle, or Sio's rocky isle. A rich man can afford to go with- 
out change in his pocket. A poor fellow cannot. Dr. Henry is a 
scholar. He could trip in the pronunciation of a word and sur- 
vive it. A poor fellow like me has got to be on his dignity. I 
must look into that word." 



J. H. Carlisle 189 

I remember a few years after that I heard him say in a private 
conversation : "Oh, it don't take much scholarship for the presi- 
dent of a college," and then added in a peculiar way, "as I have 
very good reason to know." 

Daniel Webster visited him in the year 1847. The boys sere- 
naded Daniel Webster in the president's house and some of the 
visitors there thought Webster hardly showed common respect to 
the boys. They expected a big Bunker Hill speech I suppose, 
they couldn't realize that it was a small matter in Daniel Web- 
ster's life to be serenaded and called out. Instead of a long, fine 
speech his voice just rolled over the campus saying: "I am very 
much obliged to the students of the South Carolina College for 
their courtesy. I most respectfully bid you good-night." Next 
day, however, he was to speak in the chapel. The students elected 
James Farrow, of the junior class, of Laurens, to greet Mr. Web- 
ster. He did it with very fine taste. The boys said he beat Mr. 
Webster. One fine quotation was used. He reminded Mr. 
Webster that his fame was not bounded by State lines, a very 
happy quotation from Webster's answer to Hayne. Webster 
seemed to have taken his secretary along with him and kept all 
those speeches. I met once a large edition of Webster's works in 
four or five large volumes. I turned with interest to that occa- 
sion and I found that a careless printer by adding a single letter 
has turned that neat sentence of Mr. Farrow into nonsense. He 
made him say to Webster: "Your fame is not bounded by state- 
liness." 

The Palmetto Regiment was in Mexico that year. It was 
known that they would do their duty. Governor David Johnson 
followed them to the middle of the bridge at Augusta. That 
was the last South Carolina line. The venerable man just got 
oif and with his gray hair streaming in the wind and his eyes 
with tears, gave them his blessing as they passed out from South 
Carolina, told them what the State expected. General Shields 
had been put in command of a brigade including the Palmetto 
Regiment. Before the approaches that led into the city of 
Mexico, he was making some inquiry about the regiment, spoke 



190 Addresses 

to Colonel Butler, ex-Governor P. N. Butler, of South Carolina. 
Butler knew his men. Said he : "General Shields, every man in 
the Palmetto Regiment will follow you to the death." They were 
tried and they kept up to his prediction, though he did not live 
to share the shout of triumph. TVhen the news came there was 
no telegraph then to Columbia. The news came a little slowly. 
There was a general uprising. There must be a public meeting 
called. We will have a procession. We will march to the court- 
house. We will call on the governor and distinguished men for 
speeches. The patriotism, the pride of the State must have outlet. 
Colonel Preston was called upon. I don't think he spoke more 
than five or six minutes. One sentence is all that I can recall 
sufficiently. He was gratified that the officers knew that they 
could depend on the South Carolina boys, and Colonel Preston 
expressed it in about these words : "How did General Scott know 
that these luxurious boys from the sunny South could march all 
night in a drenching rain over rocks and sand and at sunrise rush 
to the feast of victory as fresh as if they had just stepped from 
carpets or leaped from downy beds?" 

Mr. Calhoun's sons came to the college. That was a gratifying 
incident. He and Mr. Preston might differ on questions of state- 
craft. When it came to education they were one. Mr. Calhoun 
visited the chapel. He was too weak to allow a public reception, 
but the students had the pleasure of seeing him and shaking his 
hand. 

The Germans had a procession one night. 1848 was the year 
of the great democratic uprising in Europe. Thrones were 
tumbled down. The London "Punch" said that it might be true 
that a cat might look at a king. It was becoming a question 
whether a cat in Europe could find a king to look at. The Ger- 
man population caught the enthusiasm, and had a procession with 
transparencies, called on Dr. Lieber, their countryman, then went 
up to Colonel Preston's house. He took up only a few minutes, 
the framework of his remarks being like this: "You Germans 
invented printing; you have the right to take your own types and 
spread the literature of freedom. You Germans invented gun- 



J. H. Carlisle 191 

powder; you have the right to take your own gunpowder and 
shoot down tyrants and oppressors," and so he alluded to several 
of the discoveries of Germany in a very handsome way that 
pleased the Germans and met the occasion fully. 

He resigned in a year or two. His resignation was reluctantly 
accepted. His health was failing. He was partially paralyzed. 
He needed a crutch. He gave his library of three thousand care- 
fully selected volumes to the city for a lyceum. Dr. Lieber read 
the opening address. It opened with the greatest prospects of 
usefulness for the city. It was not long before it was in ashes. 

Mrs. Preston was the aunt of Prof. R. Means Davis. She was 
a most intellectual lady who for six years had graced the most 
refined circles that Washington society could offer. Her death 
not long after he resigned left him a lonely man. He came to 
Musgrove to dwell under the roof of his younger brother, General 
John Preston. His brother John was very wealthy. One of his 
large sugar houses with all its stores was burned, the loss being 
perhaps thirty thousand dollars. William Preston, instead of 
coming with any commonplace platitudes of sympathy, said, 
"Why, John, you are a lucky fellow to be able to lose $30,000. I 
never had such good fortune in my life." 

One day the question came up whether a certain gentleman 
known by a party was fitted for a particular duty. Some of them 
expressed doubts. Mr. Preston said he believed he was well 
qualified. They asked him his reason. He mentioned this homely 
incident without note or comment. You can see the bearing. 
Said he : "A negro man brought to a white man a dog and gave 
such a description of the dog as being an excellent coon dog that 
the white man paid him a very good price for it. In a few days 
he sent for the negro, stating to him, 'You told me this was a 
good coon dog. It knows nothing about it. Why did you do 
it?' The negro said : 'It's just this way. Master; I tried that dog 
for possums, he's no account. I tried him for squirrels, and he 
couldn't do anything. I tried him for rabbits and he couldn't 
do anything. Now, Master, you know that dog must be good for 
something. I thought sure he must be a coon dog.' " 



192 Addresses 

About that time there was a compliment paid Mr, Preston. I 
was much struck with it. A plain man from the sand hills, seeing 
an old gentleman walking on a crutch, says: "Who is that?" 
"William C. Preston." "Is it that man that used to talk like a 
mocking bird?" Considering the source of it, I thought that a 
remarkable compliment. 

In 1857 there was started and carried out most successfully the 
largest gathering of the kind that had ever been held in the South 
at that time, a gathering at King's Mountain on the anniversary 
of the great battle. Mr. Bancroft and other men of national 
reputation were there. Gen. John S. Preston, a grandson of 
William Campbell, one of the heroes of that fight, was the main 
speaker. The older brother, who admired him very much — there 
was a beautiful friendship between the two brothers — went to 
hear him speak. After the main speech was over the crowd, of 
course, called out for one man after another, and, of course, the 
crowd must call out William C. Preston. He arose, not without 
difficulty nor without help, supported by a crutch, and said in 
substance, very briefly, with a tender, subdued voice : "There was 
a day in my life when this spot, the associations, this crowd, 
might have aroused me to some effort and emotion, but the day 
of my strength is gone." That was about the substance, and 
lifting up his crutch with one hand and putting the other on his 
white hair, he sat down solemnly. Very few heard what he said 
with that failing voice, but it was soon flashed into the minds of 
the thousands of beholders the melancholy discovery: That is 
all that is left us of South Carolina's matchless orator. At that 
moment tears fell from eyes unused to weep and Preston's public 
life was over. 

He lived three years after that. He did not lack for admirers 
and friends, but in the few words with which he described his 
condition you will see pathos : "I am a wifeless, childless, home- 
less old man." 

McDuffie and Preston ran their race very near together. They 
were separated only by a year in college. Separated by nine 
years in death, Mr. McDuffie was six years older, and they died 



J. H. Carlisle 193 

nearly at the same age. There are some points of resemblance 
and contrast between them. One was born in poverty and 
obscurity, the other in a family where there had been wealth and 
social position for generations. The poor boy became a wealthy 
landowner and slaveholder. Mr. Preston had every opportunity 
to make wealth by his splendid gifts, but was a poorer man the 
day he died than the day he entered public life. One of these 
men was reserved to a great degree, the other social, fond of the 
current of daily life. They began life in the same school of 
politics. They diverged and differed greatly. Each had an only 
child, a daughter. Mr. Preston's daughter died when just bloom- 
ing into young womanhood. Mr. McDuffie's little child was left 
motherless when too young to know her loss. She lived and 
became Mrs. Wade Hampton, leaving a son to unite the honored 
names of her father and her husband. 

A singular fact : each of these men has been heard distinctly to 
say that the other was the greatest orator he ever heard. South 
Carolina gave birth to neither of them. She honored and trusted 
both, even when in the mist and storms and strife of political dis- 
sensions they had ceased to honor and trust each other. When 
William C. Preston left the Senate chamber. South Carolina 
called Mr. McDuffie from his plantation and told him to go and 
take the vacant chair. Each died in a crisis, one in 1851, the 
other in 1860. 

In a country like ours, popular eloquence gives one rapid and 
widespread reputation. It is apt to be exaggerated and short- 
lived. There were no reporters in that day such as we have now, 
but the most expert reporter can only tell what a man says. He 
cannot tell how the man said it, above all, he cannot tell how the 
man looked when he said it. All those enter into eloquence. 

Mr. Preston heard Governor Hayne's inaugural address in 
1832. The man, the occasion, made it a historic hour. Mr. Pres- 
ton was very much impressed. Speaking of it later he said: 
"The speech is published, but I have never read it. I was not 
willing to have my image of it confused." If he had read it, he 
would have lain it down with disappointment, and said, "I loiow 

13— C. A. 



194 Addresses 

Mr. Hayne said more than that. If he said only that, it would 
not have affected me or others, like it did." 

There are only a few gray-haired men through the State that 
can recollect hearing Preston. Let one of those men hear the best 
that your generation can put forth in the legislative hall, at the 
bar, or on the platform. He will not be slow to give a generous 
recognition of a splendid intellectual effort, but he would prob- 
ably add: "Oh, that is very good. You should have heard 
William C. Preston in his prime." 



(July 11, 1901.) 
JOHN BELTON O'NEALL. 

John Belton O'Neall was bom a few miles from Newberry in 
1793, and died in 1863, having lived only a few months beyond 
his three-score years and ten. He came of good Irish Quaker 
stock. His parents kept their Quaker faith consistent to the last. 
A younger sister of the judge is believed to be the last person in 
that part of the State, and perhaps in the State, who kept up her 
connection with the Society of Friends. 

Young O'Neall graduated at the South Carolina College in 
1812, with William C. Preston as a classmate. He was admitted 
to the bar in 1814. There was one rule then which shows that 
even wise judges may attach too much importance to red tape. It 
happened that all of the judges were not in Columbia to sign the 
diplomas of the two young law students, O'Neall and McDuflfie. 
By a rigid law they were compelled to go first to Camden, and 
then to Charleston — and traveling was not then what it is now — 
to get the other signatures, McDuffie being very poor, and O'Neall 
says money was very scarce with him. 

There were three inviting fields before the aspiring young men 
of that day in this State: the militia, emphasized by the war of 
1812, the legislature and the bar. Young O'Neall entered all 
three, and his promotion in each was rapid. In the militia he was 



J. H. Carlisle 195 

captain at 21, colonel at 24, brigadier-general at 30, major-general 
at 32. As major-general his division included Spartanburg Dis- 
trict. There must be some here now whose grandparents could 
tell of being reviewed by Major-General O'Neall and his staff. 
As brigadier-general he had the brigade which was ordered by 
the first Governor Manning to meet at Columbia and welcome 
LaFayette. That must have been a sight for Columbians — the 
long brigade line forming from Main street out towards the Cam- 
den road; and Brigadier-General O'Neall with his clear voice 
would send an order from one end of the line to the other. 

Perhaps a little digression just here may interest a few. On 
Governor Manning's staff was young Colonel John P. Kichardson. 
Fifteen years later, as Governor John P. Richardson, he ordered 
a large assembly of military men almost equal to the LaFayette 
occasion. In his staff on that occasion there was a man older 
than the others. There was something in his soldierly bearing, 
something in the almost imperial air with which he mounted and 
managed his horse, that attracted the attention of expert 
observers. There are some today who believe that the strange 
aide was none other than Marshal Ney, of Napoleon's Old Guard, 
"the bravest of the brave." 

The legislature was the second field. Young O'Neall entered 
the legislature at 23 years of age, and served in it eight years in 
all, the latter four of which he was speaker of the house without 
opposition. He was left out after his first term. He voted to 
increase the salary of the judges from $1,800 to $2,500. The 
economical voters of Newberry thought that was a piece of 
extravagance which they must condemn, so they left O'Neall at 
home for four years. He afterwards alluded to that pleasantly 
as his four years of quarantine, which did him a great deal of 
good he said, giving him time to study. In his four years of 
service as speaker, it was noticed that only on one occasion was 
there any appeal from his decision. In that case the house sus- 
tained the chair. 

In law, he was a lawyer at 21, a judge on the bench at 35, and 
in two years was promoted from the circuit bench to the appeal 



196 Addresses 

bench. The Xewberry voters must hare felt a little strange. 
They left O'Xeall out a second time, after he had been speaker 
for four years. They dropped him because, though he did not 
vote as speaker, he was known to favor some appropriation of 
money. It was singular, but the legislature to which he was not 
elected put him on the bench for life, while the Xewberry econom- 
ical votei*s were not willing to trust him in the legislative hall 
a few weeks in each year for two yell's. It is a singular coin- 
cidence that he was elected judge to fill the place of Judge 
Waites. who had presided thirty-nine years. Judge O'Xeall's 
service almost reached that, the two being among the longest 
judicial services in the history of the State. 

Judge O'Xeall was a well-rounded, many-sided man. Take 
one or two points at which he touched society apart from his 
judgeship. The first railroad reached Columbia from Charleston 
in lS-42. A few years afterwards there was a great interest felt 
to extend roads into the upcountry. The road from Columbia 
to Greenville was the longest planned. If you will look at that 
railroad on a map, you will see that several sections had to be 
conciliated. It was a work of gi'eat difficulty. O'Xeall. with all 
his energy and power, was considered the man to make president. 
In May, 1S52, before the road was finished, there was a freshet 
more disastrous than the one of last May. Xearly all the roadbed 
from Alston to Columbia was either entirely washed away or 
very much injured, and in many other places the freshet was 
disastrous. O'Xeall and two or three of his friends at one time 
pledged their private fortune in behalf of the road to the extent 
of one hundred thousand dollars. 

An attempt was made about that time to correct the extrava- 
gant and wasteful agriculture which belonged to the state of 
slavery. Xewberry was one of the first to form a district society. 
Judge O'Xeall was put at its head and served it with great 
efficiency for many years. 

He was also at the head of the district Bible society. Early in 
his official life, he became a member of the Baptist church and 
continued a consistent and devoted member through life. He 



J. H. Carlisle 197 

had his full share of all the honors and burdens which a church 
can put on its laj'^men. His legal skill, his money, his time, his 
energy were at the command of his brethren whenever they 
wished it. He several times presided over their conventions and 
associations. Those familiar with the judge's private life knew 
that at his Springfield home the sacred custom of morning and 
evening prayer was kept up, upon which his household servants 
were expected to attend. 

About the year 1832 his sister's husband showed signs of falling 
into the demon habit of intemperance. The judge, like other 
gentlemen of that day, had been in the habit of very moderate 
use of ardent spirits. He proposed to his brother-in-law that 
they should both quit and abstain entirely. He was moved to do 
this by his interest to save a fellowman and kinsman. It was not 
Judge O'Neall's custom, it was not his temperament, to go into 
things by halves. He plunged into that temperance reformation 
with all his might and power. Judge Gantt, who resigned in 
1841, had set an example of abstinence on the bench. It was 
something unusual though for a judge to throw himself into 
popular discussions of the subject as Judge O'Neall did. As a 
boy of 12 or 13 I have listened to him from an hour and a half 
to two hours in a temperance speech without becoming tired of 
the speaker or the subject. It was impossible to get tired when 
he was speaking. About 1840 a remarkable temperance wave 
swept over the country. A few drinking men of Baltimore, going 
home after a night revel — passing the Baltimore Washington 
monument, they were sober enough to look the matter in the face. 
They agreed then and there, and pledged their faith and joined 
their hands on it, to become temperance men and start out as 
temperance orators. They did so, and several of them really 
became men of popular eloquence of a simple, natural and earnest 
kind, from telling their own wonderful experiences. Judge 
O'Neall became the head of what was called the Washington 
movement in this State. In every little town and village there 
was a Washington Society formed. The tide reached the South 
Carolina College. Judge O'Neall, as a trustee, and Professor 



198 Addresses 

Thornwell made addresses to the students in the chapel in 1842. 
At the close there was a table with a blank book and the propo- 
sition was made that any student who was willing, for the good 
of the college and for his own good, to pledge himself to abstain 
from all intoxicating liquors as a beverage during his college 
course, should come and sign his name. I recall distinctly the 
first man that went up — not one we would have thought would 
be among the first. Others followed after that. A large body 
of the students enrolled themselves. There was one tenement I 
remember in the college which had never been famous for the 
quiet or hard study which prevailed in those rooms. You may 
know that college students have a very free way of using grave 
words and phrases. That tenement was known as "Paradise 
Lost." Some of them joined in this temperance movement. I 
remember visiting a friend there soon after, and seeing on the 
mantelpiece an inscription, "Paradise regained by cold water." 

For years there was a large annual convention held in some 
part of the State to which the South Carolina College Temper- 
ance Society sent delegates. In 1842 there was one at Greenville. 
There were no railroads then, but people went by hundreds to 
such gatherings. In 1843 it was at Spartanburg, then a little 
village. Between where the railroad crosses Main street and the 
old Thomson lot there was a beautiful grove, and the older people 
tell us that the convention was held there. Among the delegates 
sent to that convention was a senior in the South Carolina Col- 
lege. He was sent as a delegate to represent the South Carolina 
College. You have become familiar with his name in a much 
higher relation — W. D. Simpson. Soon after that came the "Sons 
of Temperance," which had additional features to the "Washing- 
tonians." A great many joined them. Judge O'Neall became 
the head of this State organization, then the head of the United 
States, then Canada was swept in, and Judge O'Neall was the 
head of the North American Sons of Temperance Association. 
He attended several annual meetings, in Richmond, Chicago and 
other places. I think every vacation he ever took outside of the 
State was on duty of that kind. I will pause a moment to make 



J. H. Carlisle 199 

this point: That great temperance wave achieved a lasting 
result, in that it gave the young man of that day a chance to 
enter life with advantage. A wise New Englander says: "It is 
a great thing for a young man as early as possible to commit him- 
self publicly to some unpopular cause." Without stressing that 
point unduly, it is a great thing for a young man to link himself 
with some jDublic cause, and some cause not so likely to be as 
narrow as a political party, but something that comes home to 
the business and bosoms of his fellowmen; something on which 
the good citizens can unite in their opinions. This movement 
was a great success in that direction, and it trained up incident- 
ally a generation of young speakers. 

But when we speak of Judge O'Neall, of course we think of 
him upon the bench. I may not presume to speak of Judge 
O'Neall's work critically, as to its amount or its quality. He 
himself alludes to the great work that Judge David Johnson did 
on one occasion. The three men constituting the appeal court 
were summoned to a six weeks' session in Charleston. Chancellor 
Harper was not able to attend. The whole work fell on Judges 
David Johnson and John Belton O'Neall. In six weeks, he says, 
Judge David Johnson handed down forty-one written opinions. 
That is more than one written opinion a day on some important 
legal subject. Judge O'Neal does not say what he did. We may 
take for granted he did his full share, for even on that remarkable 
bench he attracted attention by the rapidity with which he 
thought, spoke and wrote. It was a remark of some lawyers that 
if a weak or corrupt judge had ventured to speak from the bench 
about the cases before him, or had given his opinion, as he did, 
his life might not have been safe on the circuit. But the lawyers 
bore with it in the case of Judge O'Neall. They knew it was very 
probable he was right in his opinion, and it was certain he was 
honest. There is a tradition that in the twenty-five years in 
which Judge O'Neall was on the bench and a member of the 
appeal court he never changed his opinion but once between his 
circuit decree on the subject and the appeal view, and then a 
majority of his brethren decided he was right before he changed. 



200 Addresses 

His charges and sentences were eloquent and impressive. They 
were sermons to some men that never heard a sermon. On one 
occasion there was before him a case which he thought might 
be a moral to the boys. He stopped proceedings for a moment, 
told the sheriff to go and bring those boys in and scatter them 
all around his bench, where they could get good seats and be 
benefited by the case going on before them. 

Judge O'Neall felt great interest in the condition of his 
country. It is a sad state of things when a good citizen is tempted 
to say, "I take no interest in politics." It shows something most 
unfortunately wrong in the condition of the country which war- 
rants such a statement, or something weak and wrong in the 
man who utters that sentiment. Politics means the condition, the 
healthful state of the nation. How can a man be indifferent to 
that? Judge O'Neall was not indifferent, though by law he was 
forbidden to be a member of the legislature. Ministers then were 
not allowed to be members of the legislature, but in every conven- 
tion that was held, every convention that has ever been held in 
South Carolina, there have been judges and ministers. The feel- 
ing then is, duty to their State is imperative. It must call on its 
ablest and wisest and best men, without regard to official posi- 
tion. 

Judge O'Neall was a member of several conventions. I may 
say incidentally, that this county was Union to a large extent, 
and when a Union convention was needed, they sent Judge 
O'Neall, Judge Richardson and Alfred Huger, though not one 
of them lived in the county. In sending delegates to a convention 
you were not restricted to citiezns of your own county. Spartan- 
burg could not have selected a stronger delegation in the State. 

We come for a moment to a very striking point in our history, 
which was alluded to the otiier night incidentally, the Nullifica- 
tion page. Bring before your mind rapidly that occasion. Ladies 
wore cockades in their bonnets and as breatspins, heated discus- 
sions going on, Nullifiers and Union men hating each other. 
The Nullifiers, having a majority, passed a law that no man 
should take his place in a civil or military office without taking 



J. H. Carlisle 201 

a test oath, the peculiarity of the oath being that he was to swear 
sole allegiance to the State of South Carolina — not a word said 
about the United States. That brought up sharply and clearly 
the great issue. The Union men objected to it. Mr. Legare was 
in Europe. He wrote to a friend that he hoped "the Union men 
will resist that, with the sword if necessary." The question came 
up, "How is it to be met?" The majority had approved that 
oath. Fortunately there was an appeal court in South Carolina 
of three men. I want you to think as clearly and definitely as 
you can, with the very slight help that I am able to give you in 
this rapid talk, of the State being so painfully, and not very 
unequally, divided, the Nullifiers resolving to arm themselves 
and carry out their views, or fight. Three men are to meet in the 
courthouse in Columbia and settle that question. Here are the 
three men : Judge David Johnson, then 54 years of age ; Judge 
Harper, 44; Judge O'Neall, 41. Those three men, in a small 
room in Columbia, are met to take up that question on which so 
much depended. They had the wisest lawyers the State could 
give on both sides. The arguments of those lawyers for and 
against the test oath filled over two hundred pages. The judges 
heard them patiently, then the lawyers retired, and those three 
men gathered around a little table with law books to settle that 
question. It is no reflection on any of those men under all the 
circumstances to say that question was already settled. Two of 
them had been in the Union convention, and had looked over the 
question judicially even then. The third had been in the Nul- 
lifiers' convention. It is not at all surprising, when they came to 
a vote, Johnson and O'Neall pronounced the test oath unconsti- 
tutional, therefore invalid. William Harper dissented. I want 
you to think for a moment — if all three of those men had been 
of one mind, it would have been rather a sublime spectacle; but 
they were not — two to one. If you choose to go into an analysis 
you might say that Judge O'Neall's vote cancelled Chancellor 
Harper's vote and that Judge David Johnson alone settled that 
question. Suppose one of those judges had voted with Harper, 
and thrown the weight of the court with him; would the next 



202 Addresses 

page of South Carolina history have been written in blood? 
Some of the younger readers of history may ask, "What was the 
result?" If there are twenty thousand ardent, bold, determined 
Nullifiers who have made up their minds either to go upward 
or downward on the narrow side of a precipice, will they be 
stopped by three? Can three men, armed only with their gowns 
as judges and their law books, stop twenty thousand men with 
arms in their hands? They did it. I want you to be impressed 
with that for a moment. There are many things about that worth 
studying. It was a terrible disappointment to the Nullifiers. It 
was a great victory for the Union men. The judges became very 
unpopular. Judge Johnson afterwards said that a tornado of 
public abuse broke loose from the press on the judges. They were 
put under social ban for a while; but that is not the point I want 
to stress. The wildest Nullifier never dreamed of proposing in a 
convention, in the legislature, at a mass meeting, or anonymously 
in the newspaper, anything like this: "We are in a majority, 
let us go and enforce that test oath, no matter what those three 
men in their gowns may say." Not one of them attempted to 
do so. Those three men gave a solemn order to twenty thousand 
men, "Halt"; and they did it. Well, they were not only Nulli- 
fiers. They were very good specimens of human beings. They 
reasoned about this way: "We cannot nullify that decision. 
Can't we nullify the court itself?" Yes, and that is exactly what 
they did. In one year they abolished that appeal court. They 
wiped it out, but its decision had to stand. That is a point to be 
proud of in the history of our State. It is not worth while now 
to ask how much would have been gained if our people had 
always learned, in all parts of our great country, with all its 
manifold interests, to submit to courts. Supreme courts are not 
always infallible. Courts of arbitration are not always infallible. 
Yet it is a great thing to have a peaceful tribunal of last resort. 
That decision of those three men, or two rather, wiped out that 
court, and it stood wiped out for twenty-five years. We South 
Carolinians do some foolish things, but I come to a point where 
we are proud of South Carolina. They wiped out that court, and 



J. H. Carlisle 203 

foolish men talked a little about the judges, but they kept those 
three men on the bench. They put two of them on the chancery 
bench, and put Judge O'Neall on the law bench — and the storm 
was over. 

Teachers, teach your children the supremacy, the sacredness of 
law. Teach the boys of your school to grow up self-respecting, 
law-respecting men. Teach them, whether alone or on excursion 
or on a "strike," that obedience to just authority is honorable. 
Oh, indeed, it would be a calamity for the world to weep over if, 
after all that South Carolina is pouring out to educate her boys, 
there should go forth from her schools and colleges hordes of 
lawless men, men of ready material to crystalize into mobs. 

Judge O'Neall was very active with his pen. About the middle 
of the last century the boys and young men were always glad to 
get a number of the "South Carolina Temperance Advocate," a 
weekly paper in Columbia. They were sure to find an article by 
Judge O'Neall, "The Drunkard's Looking Glass," which he kept 
up for a year. He was one of the first to write up the history, 
or rather the annals of Newberry county, or, as the judge, I 
remember, preferred to pronounce it, Newhervy, with the accent 
on the first syllable. I think that was the first county that had 
anything like a history. A half dozen or more have followed. 
By a singular coincidence, our county has been fortunate in 
having its history well written by one bearing the honored name 
of John Belton O'Neall Landrum, who has lately passed away. 
Before your generation passes let us hope that every county in 
the State will have either its annalist or its historian. His 
greatest work was his "Bench and Bar," in two volumes, in which 
he pours out his ardent tributes to those judges and lawyers whom 
he knew. One question is appropriate just here : Is it creditable 
to the bar of South Carolina that forty years have passed without 
a second edition of that great book, with additions such as time 
would warrant ? 

Twenty-five years passed and the State created a separate 
appeal court. In the year 1859 the appeal court was reorganized. 
Judge O'Neall was the only one of the old court left. The State 



204 Addresses 

could think of doing nothing else than putting him on the bench, 
giving him as colleagues Job Johnstone and Francis Wardlaw. 
Judge O'Neall would have been president of that court of appeals 
by seniority, as he had been president of the court of appeals 
and the court of errors. But the legislature did a very hand- 
some thing. They went further to pay an additional compliment 
to the venerable old man, and it must have been gratifying to 
him. They revived an office which had been vacant for more 
than sixty years. Judge O'Neall was the first judge in the last 
century authorized to put after his official signature the two 
honorable letters "C. J.", Chief Justice. They restored that 
office which had been obsolete for sixty years. It has been kept 
up until today, and so has the Appeal or Supreme Court, though 
it has been added to in numbers. The personnel of that court was 
remarkable in some respects. A half century before or nearly, 
two young lawyers, John Belton O'Neall and Job Johnstone, 
began life as law partners in a small wooden building in the little 
town of Newberry, and now they are closing their honored lives, 
side by side in the highest judicial tribunal of the State. Their 
colleague was Francis Wardlaw. That name suggests a history 
in the judicial life of our State. In the first quarter of the last 
century Abbeville County had a very efficient clerk of the court, 
the venerable Mr. Wardlaw. That officer was not then elected. 
He was appointed during good behavior. He kept it until age 
required him to resign. He had several very promising boys, 
whom he sent to the South Carolina College. David graduated 
in 1816, Francis in 1818, each taking first honor in his class. 
They both studied law. David remained in his native town. 
Francis went to the neighboring courthouse in Edgefield. They 
both rose in their profession rapidly. David passed from the 
chair of the speaker of the house of representatives to the law 
bench in 1841. His younger brother, Francis, in a few years was 
put on the chancery bench. Both of them were members of the 
Secession Convention. WHien the appeal court was reorganized, 
both of them were placed on it, but not at the same time. Francis 
was put on it when it was reorganized, and David was put on it 



J. H. Carlisle 205 

in 1865. When the cyclone of Keconstruction swept the judges 
out of their places, then was found, what has been found since, 
and will be found again, that a burst of partisan rage, an insane 
outbreak of party spirit, may take from a man his office and his 
authority. It cannot take from him his character or that 
influence which character alone can give, and which character 
always gives. David Wardlaw and his colleagues were swept out 
of office. They were not humbled or degraded. 

Now, doesn't it almost read like the rapid notes of a funeral 
dirge? That court was organized in December, 1859. They did 
not begin their work until 1860. Listen to the melancholy record. 
Judge Francis Wardlaw died in 1861, Judge Job Johnstone in 
1862, their chief, John Belton O'Neall, in 1863. In those sad 
years, when young men were falling rapidly at the front, old 
men, "broken with the storms of state," were falling rapidly at 
home. Judge O'Neall was 67 when placed on the Supreme bench. 
The war, of course, interfered with the courts. You will find one 
volume will contain all the law reports of the four or five war 
years, instead of one good volume a year. Laws are silent in the 
midst of arms, but it was touching to think of the State willing 
to trust Judge O'Neall in his failing strength to hold the scales 
of justice securely, feeling satisfied that any strange question that 
might arise — and some were arising — would be met by him and 
his colleagues wisely. 

About that time I remember Mr. Petigru closed a legal argu- 
ment with words like these, which were touching to those who 
knew the man, his age and all : "With this, may it please your 
honors, I lay this offering of age on the altar of justice of my 
country and have done." 

It may be said just now, as well as a little later, when I speak 
of Judge O'Neall's death, he never had any hope in the attempted 
revolution. He believed from the first that his native State 
would find "neither strength in her arm nor mercy in her woe." 
He died at about the darkest hour, when those who had been 
brave were beginning to despair. He could not be called a dis- 



206 Addresses 

appointed man. He predicted very much the results as they 
came. 

I think it was in May, 1862, happening to be in Columbia and 
passing along Taylor street, I was touched to see the venerable 
judge walking on the very pavement where he had walked every 
day for thirty years and more, but then he was alone. No brother 
judge was by his side. I had not seen him for several years, and 
was touched to see that care, and years and thought and anxiety 
were bringing the strong man down. I said to a friend by my 
side: "That is our last look upon that good man." He was 
spared any long decay of physical or mental powers. On 
Wednesday, the 23d of December, 1863, he left Columbia, as 
usual, to go home to Newberry ; feeble, of course, but nothing at 
all to cause anxiety on the part of his friends. On the following 
Sunday, the 27th, "he gave his honors to the world again, his 
better part to heaven, and slept in peace." I have seen the death 
of a third-rate lawyer produce a greater sensation in the State 
than the death of that venerable chief justice. The hearts of the 
people were full of other cares. I can recall distinctly that no 
experience gave me a more touching, a more pathetic view of 
war than to see that venerable man drop unnoticed into the grave. 
The bar had not time to collect and pass resolutions. Many of 
the lawyers were elsewhere. Dr. LaBorde, following a noble 
impulse, prepared a memorial lecture to be delivered throughout 
the State, intending to get some money to send to the Soldiers' 
Home in Richmond; but there was no encouragement to carry 
out the plan. 

Fifteen years after the judge's death the late Mrs. Chapin 
visited Newberry in the interest of temperance organizations. It 
was my privilege to be present at a very interesting occasion. She 
led a long procession of Newberry boys and girls from the Baptist 
church to where the judge was buried, in rather a private burying 
ground in the southern part of the town, and they covered his 
honored grave with flowers. A few years after that the casket 
with his remains was removed to the public cemetery on a hill 
overlooking the town which he loved and served so well. 



J. H. Carlisle 207 

It is impossible to measure the influence of such a man, of 
such a life. If each brother judge, in addition to official integrity, 
had brought private worth and true purity of life and character, 
like his, the condition of South Carolina would be different today. 
May we hope that from your schools, men like that will rise up 
in the middle part of this century? Happy is the State, whose 
quiver is full of such men ! The town of Belton is called after 
him. The workshops at Newberry when they were there were 
called Helena, after his excellent wife. The judge had a summer 
house in Greenville County. One of the townships is named after 
him, and there is a beautiful memorial window in one of the 
Furman University buildings for him. All these he deserved, 
and deserved every honor the State gave him. She gave him 
everything in her power in his chosen profession. 

A friend who knew him well says he was five feet, ten inches 
high and weighed 180 pounds — clear blue eyes, fine Roman nose. 
Add to that a fine florid complexion. His hair he wore to the 
end of his life, as he did in his young manhood, rather long, 
parting and keeping it carefully. A voice that was remarkable, 
ringing clear, and in his physical stature even nature had put 
her seal on him as a man. 

Teachers of South Carolina : From time to time you will call 
over in your school room the names of some who have helped to 
make this dear old commonwealth worthy of the loyalty and love 
of those who are to come after you. Do not forget the man, on 
whose tombstone there might be written an epitaph like this: 
"For thirty-five years he wore without reproach or stain the 

ERMINE or HIS NATIVE StATE ; A JUST JUDGE, WHO FEARED GoD AND 
LOVED HIS FELLOWMAN." 



208 Addresses 

(July 2, 1901.) 
GEORGE McDUFFIE. 

George McDuffie was born in 1788 and died in 1851. He was 
elected governor in December, 1834. 

At that time it was the custom of the governor to hold big camp 
musters occasionally. All the officers in the brigade, including 
several counties, were called together for a week's drill and 
inspection. The last two or three days of the week all the soldiers 
of two or three regiments were called together and it ended with 
a grand military display on Saturday, review by the governor 
and his aides. Governor McDuffie, the first year of his term, held 
such a muster on the main road between Winnsboro and Chester, 
about halfway between the two towns. On Saturday evening the 
great display closed. The governor and his party, passing down 
the road Sunday morning towards Columbia, came to what is 
now Whiteoak, on the railroad, where he passed a little humble 
country church where there was service appointed for that day. 
He and his party stopped and attended the service. At the close 
he was open to introductions. The congregation was small. It 
was in order for men, women and children to be introduced to 
the governor. One little boy there with big eyes looking with 
wonder and reverence at a live governor, the first he had ever 
seen, was allowed to go up and let the governor shake his hand. 
That was an era in his life. 

About fifteen years after that I was standing in the Main street 
of Columbia, talking with a friend. Pointing at a carriage going 
slowly by he said: "There is a melancholy spectacle, George 
McDuffie, a physical and mental wreck." His striking face was 
there, the clear-cut profile was there, but those eyes which had 
flashed with the light of intellect and even of genius had lost their 
luster. He was in the care of a faithful servant who was driving 
his carriage. Those were the only two occasions that I had the 
privilege of looking at Mr. McDuffie. Twenty-five years later I 
was spending a day or two in Wedgefield, Sumter County. 
Knowing that his grave was near I inquired and found a friend 



J. H. Carlisle 209 

willing to drive me there. We passed a fine avenue of trees 
leading to a pile of ruins that marked the old Singleton home- 
stead where he died. Going a little further into the deep solemn 
forest of tall long-leaf pines, we came to the Singleton burying 
ground fenced in with stone fence and an iron gate. There were 
several tombs there, but the most attractive was a tall shaft with 
medallion life-size profile of McDuffie, a few figures and dates 
and the names of the offices that he had held and this inscription : 
"The history of his country is his epitaph." 

George McDuffie was a typical American boy, born in obscurity 
and poverty and working his way up to the high places of the 
land. Indeed, his family was so obscure, it was doubtful for a 
time when and where he was born. At one time it was thought 
South Carolina might claim him. He certainly belonged to the 
Scotch-Irish colony which stopped a while at Waxhaw and which 
gave birth to Andrew Jackson. It was a little disappointing to 
South Carolinians. At one time you thought you could claim 
Andrew Jackson and George McDuffie, and you had to surrender 
both, one to North Carolina and the other to Georgia. 

George McDuffie showed his ability very early. A brother of 
John C. Calhoun was attracted to him, spoke to another brother, 
who offered to board him while he went to the celebrated school of 
Dr. Waddle, It is said that many years afterwards an object of 
curiosity was an old blue wooden trunk, box rather, without a lock, 
fastened by a leather strap, which carried all of George McDuffie's 
worldly possessions when he left Augusta as a clerk in a store and 
went to that school. He was older than most of the students, 
but he had the advantage of a mighty intellect. It is. said when 
they struck Virgil, they read the twenty or thirty lines, and 
scholars then as now were very superstitious in observing the 
end of the lesson, and the rest of the scholars said: "That is the 
end of the lesson." George said, "I can read more." "Well," 
said Dr. Waddle, "read on." He read on I think into the two 
hundred or maybe three hundred lines. He and the Virgil class 
parted company that day. They never met again. He went on 
and the striking statement is made that he prepared for the junior 

14— C. A. 



210 Addresses 

class of the South Carolina College in one year. The standard 
then was not as high. It was more common to enter the junior class 
than now, but that was remarkable. He was very poor in college, 
not only taught in vacation but I think even the faculty let him 
go for a month or two during the session to teach school to raise 
funds. He graduated with the first honor of his class. His 
speech was on the Permanence of the Union. It was published 
by the students, a very rare compliment. If a stray copy of that 
speech could be found it would be read with interest. 

Between December and May, in less than six months, he read 
all that was required for admission to the bar in both law and 
equity and was admitted in May, 1814, with a young man named 
John Belton O'Neall, afterwards chief justice of the State, who 
had graduated a year before him in the college. 

He went to Pendleton, made a mistake which a good many 
bright young men make, ran for an office a little too soon, was 
defeated, failed completely in Pendleton. Judge O'Neall says 
he literally did nothing, moved to Edgefield and started upon the 
wonderful career of brilliancy at law and soon in the legislature. 
He entered the legislature in 1818. 

There was no great question then before the country. He took 
up the question of giving the election of presidential electors 
to the people. You all know that South Carolina prided itself 
on a point of principle there. When all the other States gave 
the election of presidential electors to the people South Carolina 
restricted it to the legislature, and even when Congress passed a 
law that the election for electors should take place the same day 
all over the Union, and that day was one on which our legislature 
was not in session, our people preferred to call an extra session 
of the legislature for one day rather than yield that point. But 
the war came on and the point was yielded. It was on subjects 
like that that Mr. McDuffie first attracted attention. After a 
speech of his on that subject the question of appropriation to the 
State College came up. Some were raising objections. Judge 
Huger made a remark that has often been quoted, if the South 
Carolina College had never done anything else but send out that 



J. H. Carlisle 211 

one man, George McDuffie, all that the State has ever given it 
would have been a good investment. 

He soon reached Congress. He did not marry early in life. He 
was a single man when he reached Congress. It was known by 
some friends that he was very attentive to a very wealthy, 
attractive yoimg lady of this State, who became his wife. In 
visiting Washington she frequently would go to the gallery of 
the house of representatives. When she was seen there, his 
friends would whisper about among each other: "The South 
Carolina orator will be at his best today." And there were some 
brilliant displays of his eloquence about that time. Just about 
the time he went to Congress, perhaps a year later, came an inci- 
dent that marred his life, the duel with Colonel Cumming, a 
lawyer of Georgia. There were three duels between those two 
men at intervals of months. Colonel Cumming was never touched. 
Mr. McDuffie was wounded the first time. I read lately with 
interest a letter of Mr. Calhoun only recently published, dated 
18th of June, 1822, in which he says : "The mail today relieved 
Washington city of a great anxiety. We have reason to believe 
that our friend McDuffie is not only alive but safe, so a letter 
received from him today four hours after the affair says. The 
ball entered the small of his back obliquely." 

That ball did its work just as effectually, though not as rapidly, 
as if it had passed through his brain. In involved thirty years of 
suffering, ending in a total eclipse of intellect. It does not relieve 
matters, to read that those duels were considered unnecessary 
even by duelling men. Indiscretion of friends brought them on. 
Fifteen years afterwards, John L. AVilson wrote the "Code of 
Honor," giving as one reason for writing it that most of the 
duels, I think he said nine out of ten, were caused by the 
ignorance and inexperience of seconds and friends. 

Years ago I had the privilege of an interview with a venerable 
lady in the eastern part of the State. She was a widow of an 
ex-member of Congress. She said, that at one time her husband's 
room and Mr. McDuffie's room at the hotel were adjoining. She 
has known Mr. McDuffie to pace the floor of his room all night 



212 Addresses 

long in sleepless agony. Suppose now, next day in Congress, 
some question came up deeply touching the honor and the welfare 
of his State or section. Is it surprising to us if he should throw 
himself into that debate with a heat and an energy and a passion 
which seemed to be, and was, overbearing, irritating and even 
insulting? In Congress there were three subjects that drew out 
all of Mr. McDuffie's efforts, and no one of those three subjects 
has lost its interest today. The first was the tariff, to which he 
gave a great deal of attention. It is still important. In Mr. 
McDuffie's day the total expenses of the government were about 
twenty millions. Last year they were five hundred millions. To 
raise an amount of money like that fairly, justly and equally 
dividing the burdens and benefits of taxation, is not a simple 
problem. It requires the deepest statesmanship, guided by the 
most unselfish patriotism. The first protective tariff passed by 
Congress was sanctioned by Lowndes and Calhoun of South Caro- 
lina. Even in Nullification times, some of the planters in South 
Carolina sent out some of their interests, and bought a sugar 
plantation. The South Carolina cotton planter was in favor of 
free trade. The South Carolina sugar planter in Louisiana was 
fond of protection. Since the war, we have seen the rice planters 
of this State send to Congress and ask for relief. Among Mr. 
McDuffie's last votes in Congress were votes for the tariff of 1846. 
He was honest in all this. If Mr. McDuffie said that of every 
hundred bales of cotton the South Carolina planter raises, forty 
of them go to enrich the Northern manufacturer, he was honest in 
his political economy, even if mistaken. He was honest in pictur- 
ing the depressed condition of South Carolina and its meagre 
prospects. He was honest, when he quoted the sad lines: "To 
mute and to material things, new life returning summer brings, 
but oh, my country's wintry state, what second spring can reno- 
vate?" He was not playing a part. He was sincere and honest. 

The second subject that he threw great interest in : he dreaded 
the power of the president. The president's salary then was 
$25,000, now it is $50,000. The patronage has increased in more 
than that proportion. It is said now, counting all the offices of 



I J. H. Carlisle 213 

all grades within the gift of the president, that they amount to 
170,000. Mr. McDufRe came in contact with Jackson, who was 
at all times assuming responsibility. In a very famous passage, 
Mr. McDuffie alluded to the old mythology. He said: "Why, 
even Jupiter" — I am not giving his words literally — "shared his 
dominion and might with Neptune and Mars, but the president 
of this country takes his trident from Neptune, his dart from 
Mars, the thunderbolt from Jupiter, and claims them all as his 
right." 

The third subject that Mr. McDuffie studied, was corruption in 
public life. He said : "People ask where is corruption ? I do not 
see it. How can you expect to see it? You might as well expect 
to see the pestilence that walks in darkness embodied in visible 
shape." And he added this extravagant burst : "Eve fell in the 
garden of Eden with less temptation than now besets a man in 
public life." That question is still important. The charge of 
corruption is very often made by writers and speakers in all parts 
of the country. That is a fact, and one other fact must exist. 
Those charges must be true, or there must be a great deal of cor- 
ruption outside of the writers and speakers. If that part of the 
country is not corrupt, then the writers and speakers must be cor- 
rupt, in throwing such charges about. 

Mr. McDuffie's style was remarkable. It is an old story that 
Demosthenes, when asked for the first, second and third elements 
of oratory, said, "Action, action, action." Some Greek scholar 
suggested that exactly what Demosthenes meant might be 
expressed more completely by the word "Energy, energy, energy." 
That certainly comes nearer expressing Mr. McDuffie's power, 
ENERGY. His style was vehement, even violent. I remember hear- 
ing a professed elocutionist, who had spent some time in Wash- 
ington, imitating leading orators, giving extracts from their 
speeches and impersonating them in a very instructive way. 
When he was describing McDuffie and imitating him, he would 
strike the table in front of him with his fist and the palm of his 
hand. He would lift up the little table and dash it down on the 
floor. All that was thought not extravagant, in imitating Mr. 
McDuffie. 



214 Addresses 

An intelligent young lady from New England was in the 
gallery of the house, and seeing Mr. McDuffie there throwing his 
arms about, she said to her friends : "Are you not afraid of that 
man throwing his fists about so wildly? Won't they fly off and 
hit somebody?" That was her pleasant way of expressing his 
violence of manner. I have heard those familiar with him, speak 
of a very singular feature of his style. Sometimes in the very 
midst of an ambitious sentence there would be a startling pause 
of some appreciable time, his eyes and face expressing intense 
energy, his mouth open, his tongue vibrating rapidly so as to 
remind the onlooker sometimes, if he was in the midst of a 
terrible burst of invective or indignation, as was often the case, 
of the tongue of an adder or viper, but after the momentary 
painful pause the words would come out with tremendous explo- 
sive force. A single sentence, which I just repeat literally, I have 
heard quoted by persons as having a wonderful effect. He was 
in Augusta. There was a convention of the Carolinas and 
Georgia. He was speaking of the intimate relation between the 
States, and he just uttered this short sentence with his tremendous 
energy: "Let Georgia once sound the tocsin of alarm and the 
clans of Carolina will rally to her rescue." As he was born in one 
State and got his honor in the other, he was a suitable man to 
represent the intimate connection of the two States. 

The Nullification campaign was in its climax when he was 
governor. That is a long and painful story to tell, and shall not 
be attempted here. The issue was a very simple one. Congress 
had passed a law that certain articles coming into Charleston 
harbor should pay certain duties. One party in South Carolina 
wanted the legislature to say that those articles should come into 
Charleston harbor and not pay those duties. It was a simple 
question, whether one State could cancel, erase, abolish, nullify 
the act of Congress. There are not many now living who remem- 
ber to have seen a cockade on a Nullifier's hat. If young ladies 
will think of a rosette made up of blue ribbon, the rosette as large 
nearly as a silver dollar; now, on the middle of that, fasten a gilt 
palmetto button. That was the Nullifier's cockade, that was his 



J. H. Carlisle 215 

flag, that was his creed. The men of that day wore beaver hats. 
That cockade put on the left side of the hat was the Nullifier's 
flag flying. The absence of that usually meant a Union man. 
The very cockade was almost an invitation to a fight, it was like 
a chip which a young fellow puts on his shoulder and goes about 
with, challenging the opposition, the State of South Carolina and 
the universe to knock it off. The cockade was about like that, 
and not many salesdays or court weeks passed without a fight. 
It drove the dividing line through the State. A father would 
be on one side, a Union man, and his son a Nullifier. Of two boys, 
one would put on a cockade, the other would not. The subject 
came up at the dinner' table, and everywhere. Some of the best 
citizens left the State in disgust and despair, trying to find in 
other States the harmony and peace which South Carolina did 
not give them. This county was largely Union, but there were 
some Nullifiers in old Spartanburg. Years ago, in looking over 
old papers, I found a handbill, signed by a committee of Nulli- 
fiers in Spartanburg, warning their friends not to go into the 
courthouse on the Fourth of July, that the Union men were to 
meet there. The two parties could not meet together in an old- 
fashioned Fourth of July celebration, to rejoice over English 
tyranny being abolished. No, they were Nullifiers and Unionists. 
About that time some early risers in the little village of .Spartan- 
burg were surprised to find an effigy of Calhoun hanging from 
the limb of a tree very near where the Morgan monument now 
stands. John C. Calhoun was then understood to mean John 
Cataline Calhoun, when the opposing party desired to translate 
his middle initial. Party spirit entered the pulpit. In some places 
preachers were demanded to show their colors, if not to wear 
a cockade, at least to let it crop out in some way or somewhere 
whether he was a Union man or a Nullifier. Dr. Bachman, a cele- 
brated Lutheran preacher in Charleston, knew he would be 
closely watched for some indication on a Sunday when it was 
understood the city preachers would be expected to say some- 
thing. He determined that his people should hear a good sermon 
on that day, with neither tariff nor free trade, Nullifier nor Union 



216 Addresses 

in it. After opening his services as usual, he took the Gospel 
of Matthew and read the fifth, sixth and seventh chapters without 
note or comment, and dismissed the congregation, giving them 
the Sermon on the Mount. Can you think now of a sensible man 
declining to eat Irish potatoes because they came from the North ? 
Can you think of a sensible lawyer saying that rather than ride 
his circuit around the country on a Kentucky horse and eat Ken- 
tucky bacon, he would walk from one courthouse to another and 
eat snow-birds? Can you think of George McDuffie himself 
giving his broadcloth coat to one of his negroes, saying it was 
only fit to be the livery of a slave, and he dressing in home-spun, 
home-made clothing? Governor Perry gives all those instances 
as actually occurring. 

At a public meeting an ardent Nullifier went so far as to say 
something like this, "I don't believe any man here loves the 
Union. I defy any man to rise and put his hand on his heart and 
say he loves this Union." Old Colonel Samuel Warren rose on 
a wooden leg with a crutch under his arm and said, "I fought for 
the Union. I can say I love it." May we not, while looking back 
on those men with respect, even with due reverence, learn some 
lessons about the extravagance, the ungodliness of zeal, the 
tyranny of partisan public spirit, the danger of elevating every 
preference to a principle, the danger of taking a theory or maxim 
of political economy and ranking it among the ten command- 
ments? Are there no lessons for us there? 

Look at it from this point of view. The population of South 
Carolina was a little over half a million, black and white, 56 per 
cent, being black. Here, now, you have a white population of not 
more than a quarter of a million of both sexes and all ages. If 
every young man old enough to vote and to fight had been an 
ardent Nullifier it looks like it would have been rather a solemn, 
grave position for that one State to defy the Union. That was 
not the case. The white fighting population of South Carolina 
was very painfully and not unequally divided. Wlien the test 
came (many even in crises will stay away from the polls, from 
discretion, from indifference, from doubt,) the vote stood in 



J. H. Carlisle 217 

round numbers, 20,000 Nullifiers, 15,000 Union men. Now, doesn't 
it look tragic, pathetic — I do not care to apply other adjectives 
to it just now — to see a small State, painfully divided, not very 
unequally, with two parties, each hating the other only less than 
both hated the section which they thought was impoverishing 
the State — to see a little State, so divided, flinging defiance at the 
other twenty-three States? Look at it calmly in the perspective 
of history. Yet Mr. McDuffie drew up a very strong paper, with 
all his eloquence and energy. He said at the close that he did 
not believe the Union would attempt, by force, to collect those 
taxes, but said he, "If it does, we pledge ourselves we will not 
submit as long as there is a man to oppose it," and then added 
in his characteristic way : "Far better that South Carolina be the 
cemetery of freemen than the habitation of slaves." And one 
ardent man, excited by the situation and speaking of a possible 
collision, rose into poetry for a time almost. Said he : "The man 
that gets upon the field before me will have to rise before the 
break of day and sharpen his sabre by the light of the morning 
star." I remember, a very modest little boy, looking up with 
admiration at a young Irishman who had come to the country 
fifteen or twenty years before, who was speaking of the subject 
of taxes, and used these words: "I would wade knee deep in 
blood to kill Andrew Jackson." I looked with wonder, reverence, 
awe, admiration, at a man that would wade in blood. I never 
did that as a boy. I had tried some little experiments in wading 
in shallow, muddy water, but that was wading in blood. Here 
is a man that is willing to do that, and push his way through 
blood that is above his boots, up to his knees, and for what ? To 
get a chance to kill somebody or something. If I had been asked 
who Andrew Jackson was then, I think I should have drawn his 
picture with horns and hoofs. He must have been a fiend surely, 
but that was the spirit that boys heard. South Carolinians, you 
that are now surrounded by advantages and benefits that our 
fathers did not know then, will scarcely read without a blush the 
statement which history cannot conceal : both Nullifiers and TTnion 
men poured out their money freely to carry that election. In one 



218 Addresses 

part of the State one of the parties made a distinction that 
perhaps would not occur to you now. They said about this : "Oh, 
we would not think of trying to bribe a white man for his vote, 
offering him money for his vote. Of course, we would not, but 
we will supply every poor white man liberally with money so that 
if the other party is mean enough to try and bribe him we will 
put him above the reach of temptation." Twenty years later that 
scene was repeated. There was another political election, almost 
as bitter as that of Nullification. Col. William C. Preston was 
noticed on the train coming at an unusual time from Washington, 
where he was a member of Congress. He was asked what was the 
matter. He said, pleasantly: "I understand a vote is worth 
fifty dollars in South Carolina. I thought it was a good time to 
come home." 

About that time two popular, wealthy men ran for the oflEice of 
senator in one of the middle counties. The defeated candidate 
said afterwards to a friend : "I spent ten thousand dollars on the 
campaign. My opponent spent fifty thousand. I found it would 
break me. I gave it up." One of those men was reported as 
saying that the vote of a man was as really his property as his 
bale of cotton or a mule, and it was his right and privilege to take 
that vote into the market. 

McDuffie was governor of the State in 1834. The governor's 
office then was a light one compared to its responsibilities now. 
It was one of great dignity but very little responsibility except in 
one direction. He was not required to live in Columbia even. He 
could live at his own plantation, except the month of December 
he must be in Columbia. He had no veto power. There was no 
penitentiary, or imprisonment for life. Still he had the pardon- 
ing power, which was about the only responsibility resting on 
the governor that day. When David Johnson was governor a 
lawyer went to him with a petition, very anxious to secure a par- 
don for a client. When he went back home some one said, "Did 
you get your pardon?" "No," said he, "but I have seen a sublime 
thing that touched me. I have seen a governor of South Carolina 
refuse a pardon with tears in his eyes." 



J. H. Carlisle 219 

Governor McDuffie did two things in his governorship, of dif- 
ferent value, but both worth mentioning briefly. About that time 
one of the punishments for a grade of murder was to brand a 
man. A bar of iron with a raised letter "m" at one end of it was 
made red hot, and pressed against the cheek or brow of the mur- 
derer, "m" for murder. If a thief a letter "t" was branded on 
his hand. The tradition, I don't suppose that was the law, was 
that it should stay there long enough for him to repeat three 
times, "God save the State." You can imagine there was some 
pretty rapid pronunciation about that time. A physician was 
usually near with his chemicals to erase the mark. There was a 
case came up from Fairfield, I think, calling for branding. The 
governor properly looked upon it as an old relic of barbarism, 
called the attention of the legislature and they abolished the law. 
Another thing that he did of far more importance, he reorgan- 
ized the South Carolina College. The historian of that college 
says at the end of 1834, "the college was certainly in a deplorable 
condition, students fifty or less, perhaps twenty at the end of the 
year." That was exactly the state of affairs when Mr. McDuffie 
took charge of his office as president of the board of trustees. 
The college was reorganized and put on its feet. This fact will 
show you. In 1835, just before his influence had time to be of 
effect, there were twelve gi-aduated in one class. In 1837 there 
were more than forty, the largest class, with perhaps one excep- 
tion, that had ever been graduated. So, he put the college not 
only on its former plane of usefulness, but on a still higher career. 
After his governorship was over he retired to his plantation in 
the flatwoods of Abbeville, on the Savannah River, a ver}^ success- 
ful cotton planter. In 1840 he was called on once or twice. The 
death of ex-Governor Hayne had startled the State. The city 
council of Charleston asked him to deliver a eulogy, which he 
did with great ability. Later in the year he delivered an Agri- 
cultural Address in Columbia. That being the year of the presi- 
dential campaign, he threw himself into that. The debate was 
between Whigs and Democrats. Some young teachers of more 
than ordinary intelligence cannot now tell the difference between 



220 Addresses 

a Whig and a Democrat, so easily are these lines rubbed out. 
There was a scene, continued for several nights in succession, 
that was handed down by tradition among the students and the 
peoi^le who lived in Columbia. There were two very large 
buildings near the Catholic church, the old Circus and the old 
Theatre. On one night Mr. Preston would speak to the Whigs, 
on the next night Mr. McDuffie would address the Democrats. 
That was kept up for two or three nights in succession. It was 
a war of the giants. Tradition long kept up the close of Mr. 
McDuffie's final speech. After pouring out all his vials of wrath 
on William C. Preston — they had been in college together just 
a year apart — after describing him as the strolling orator, the 
vagrant politician, the mountebank statesman, he closed with a 
passage from Addison's Cato, with all his wonderful energy, 
applying it to Preston: "O Portius, is there not some chosen 
curse, some hidden thunder in the vault of heaven, red with 
uncommon wrath, to blast the man that owes his greatness to his 
country's ruin?" 

In 1842 he was sent to the Senate of the United States. He 
stayed there only four years. His health was failing. He took 
part in the great questions of Oregon and Texas, but perhaps 
added nothing to his previous high reputation. 

For two or three years before his death in 1851, the State was 
shaken by a political storm only less bitter than that of Nullifica- 
tion. It did not disturb him in the least. As a critical test one 
day, to see if any of his intelligence was left, a friend read him 
his fine passage about Mars and Neptune and Jupiter. The dull 
eye made no response. That splendid intellect had become a 
blank. 

"The history of his country is his epitaph." That was only the 
expression of partial friendship. There are very few persons of 
which that could be written with historic accuracy and truth. I 
have looked into several histories of this State written since then, 
and you will find his name among the list of governors, perhaps 
a quarter of a page. That is all. You may look into some general 
histories of the United States written since then. You may find 



J. H. Carlisle 221 

his name in a footnote. You may find a page or a half page in 
an encyclopedia. Years ago I was at a commencement in another 
State. A South Carolina boy was delivering a speech, and, as 
some South Carolina boys would do, he spread himself on South 
Carolina's great men, and among them he came out impressively 
with "McDuff." Will, thought I, the very pronunciation of the 
man's name be forgotten ? 

Judge O'Neall had met George McDufRe in debate, in the 
Clariosophic society in college. Their intimacy was kept up 
through life, though their politics were as wide apart as the poles, 
A few months after George McDuffie died, Judge O'Neall, when 
called upon by the students of Davidson College, gave them an 
address. He took "Oratory and Eloquence," and sketched some 
of the great men that he had known. He gave a characterization 
of McDufRe in a few sentences. Afterwards when Judge O'Neall 
in his "Bench and Bar" referred to McDuffie, he said he would 
close with what he had said at Davidson College, as he did not 
know that he could describe him better than in those words. You 
may take them as the estimate of one who knew McDuffie well : 
"With a thousand times more honesty, McDuffie has surpassed 
the most brilliant efforts of France's greatest orator, Mirabeau. 
McDuffie with a head as clear as a sunbeam, with a heart as pure 
as honesty itself, and with a purpose as firm as a rock, never 
spoke unaccompanied with a passionate conviction of right, which 
made his arguments as irrisistible as the rushing flood of his own 
Savannah." 



(July 13, 1901.) 

THE EEGRETS OF AN OLD TEACHER. 

You have all seen and admired, I hope, the spirited little 
statue of Daniel Morgan that overlooks our public square. There 
is an incident connected with the artist that has a moral value. 
He keeps in his studio a model of every piece of work that he has 
ever sent out. An intelligent visitor was once watching them and 



222 Addresses 

spent considerable time in looking at all the models arranged by 
scores and hundreds. At last he ventured to ask the artist a 
question: "Mr. Ward, what is your best piece of work?" "My 
next," was his sudden answer to the surprised visitor, who 
expected him to point to some work already finished, but the 
artist felt that he had in him an ideal that had never yet been 
reached. 

In a few days you will leave this place, I will not say dissatis- 
fied, but unsatisfied, with all the schools you ever taught, 
especially with the teachers of all the schools you ever taught; 
so, that if you are asked by a friend what is your best year's work 
in the schoolroom the modest, earnest, hopeful answer will be, 
"My next year's." 

Now, let me turn prophet a moment, and predict what will 
take place next fall, some time in October. The schools have all 
opened. They have gone on a few weeks perhaps. At play time 
some day the boys and girls get together and one of the big boys 
speaks out : "Look here, fellows, there is one thing that has been 
surprising me, that old history is not the same as it used to be. 
The teacher is just the same, but everything appears much nicer 
than it used to be. The truth is I almost like to go to school, and 
am sorry when Saturday comes. I don't understand it." The 
other boys say, "Yes, we have noticed that, too." There is one 
little lady, just coming into her teens, very wise, who says, "Boys, 
I have been studying at that hard question for several days and I 
have got the answer at last. I will tell you what it is. It is that 
Spartanburg summer school. Don't you remember that during 
the summer we read a good deal about a summer school. I don't 
know what that means. I don't see why teachers have to go to 
school. I thought all the teachers knew everything before, but 
there is something in a summer school that makes a good teacher 
better," and right then and there they pass unanimous resolutions 
that their teachers must go to the Spartanburg summer school 
every year as long as they teach. 

Now, an old teacher may well look back with some regret. He 
will find that he has made mistakes. He has expected too much 



J. H. Carlisle 223 

from his pupils often, he has made too little allowance for child- 
hood and youth, he has forgotten the bodily activities of the boy 
needed rest, he has not respected the boy nature. I believe there 
is less danger now that you will make that mistake than there 
was years ago, with better accommodation, good, comfortable 
seats, regular hours for recess and all that, but still there is a 
danger there. Now, long before any of you entered the school 
room this incident took place which you have often read of. 
Suddenly the schoolroom was startled by a loud, shrill whistle. 
It shocked everybody. The whole machinery of the school had 
stopped. The teacher with switch in hand had to go all around 
the schoolroom to locate it. It was located at last. Wlien a 
little boy was questioned, he answered most positively and from 
his standpoint most truthfully: "I did not mean to whistle, it 
just whistled itself." You have forgotten sometimes the amount 
of energy, vital power, nervous power, electricity, dynamite, 
whistling propensity, there is crowded into the ordinary body of 
the average healthy boy. Now, if you try to bind all that down 
with your red tape there will be an explosion as every teacher 
has found to his sorrow. The same thing with regard to his 
mental capacities, his mental activities. You at times select your 
time to do your best work. You expect your pupils to be ready 
whenever the clock strikes for lessons. Now, all lessons are not 
equally interesting, all teachers are not equally interesting, the 
same teacher is not equally interesting at all times, but you 
expect that boy to be interested whether you are interesting or 
not. You do not allow rest and change for the mental activities 
of the boy. There are no two safes in Spartanburg with the 
same combination of characters perhaps. It is so with a boy or 
girl, each separated in a curious combination. Many years ago I 
read a sentence which struck me as a young teacher and did me 
good. It is more than a play on words. It is this. Young 
teachers complain that boys and girls are inattentive. You are 
mistaken. A boy or girl is never inattentive. You take a boy 
or girl with a good mind, above imbecility or an idiotic state, 
that mind is never wholly inattentive. The reason the boy or 



224 Addresses 

girl is not attentive to what you are telling is, it is too busy 
attending to something else. That is all. The attention is there. 
You have a lesson or a problem for him and you want to have the 
whole water power of the stream turned upon that complicated 
and strange piece of machinery. He happens just then to have a 
little flutter-wheel of his own private manufacture, and it is far 
more beautiful with the stream turned on that. 

Henry Ward Beecher was once lecturing to young preachers. 
One of them asked him what was to be done if some of the audi- 
ence are listless, inattentive. Mr. Beecher answered with charac- 
teristic promptness and did what a hundred teachers must do 
sometimes. He took refuge in an extravagant but significant 
statement. His answer was about this : "Oh, that is well under- 
stood at Plymouth church. At Plymouth church if any of the 
audience are seen to be sleepy, inattentive, listless, the sexton 
knows at once his duty. He knows that it is his duty to go at 
once to the pulpit and wake the preacher up." Let the janitors 
and sextons of graded schools and colleges learn their duty. It is 
just the same. 

We have often paid too little attention to the moral activities 
of the boy and girl. We expect too much of them. Take for 
instance, the question of truth, and truth especially as arising 
from exaggeration. The boy or girl has very feeble ideas of time 
and measure and distance, yet the teacher or parent is frequently 
startled and discouraged by the downright lying of children. 
They do not mean it in that direction. It is a mental rather than 
a moral fault, and following that, the teacher has reason to regret 
that because of not making allowance he has punished too quickly. 
I remember the late Dr. Thornwell mentioned an incident that 
occurred when he was a small boy at school. It was the first day 
of school and there was a new teacher. A big boy nearly grown 
walked up to the teacher in a patronizing way and asked him for 
a chew of tobacco. He did not get that, but he got a whipping 
instead. Now, the teacher just jumped to the conclusion that the 
boy meant a deliberate insult. That is not necessary. What he 
may have meant was that he wanted the new teacher to feel per- 



J. H. Carlisle 225 

fectly at home and to introduce him into some of the civilities of 
common life. Anything like a deliberate insult in the school 
room is as uncommon, as has been said, as a cash transaction. 
And it may be met not necessarily with the lash. There are 
other ways of treating the case. Dr. Busby, an old college teacher, 
valued whipping too highly to waste it on reprobates and incor- 
rigibles. He would not do it. A father asked Dr. Busby how his 
boy, newly entered, was getting along. "Finely, sir; I began 
wdiipping him last week," which was a sign of hopefulness. If 
now you can get a state of things in which whipping is considered 
too good a thing for a bad boy and too coarse and bad a thing for 
a good boy, I think you will be in sight of an ideal educational 
millennium. 

I remember hearing Judge Longstreet give rather an amusing 
account — it was amusing as he told it — of an incident in his early 
life. It was not amusing when it occurred, but when he thought 
of it afterwards. He said he had just begun to write. He had 
made straight marks and the next exercise was the letter "a." 
He said he made a line of "a's" that he thought irresistible. He 
w^ent up expecting a little praise. He got a sharp slap. "Make 
your 'a's' more oval, sir." "Oval, oval, oval? What does that 
mean ? It means I didn't bear hard enough with my pen." So, 
he took his old goose-quill pen and he pushed it down on the 
paper and he swung it around and he made "a's" that could be 
readily seen with the naked eye. He went and showed them. 
Another slap. "More oval. Didn't I tell you?" "Oh, yes, I see. 
I bore too hard." Then he took his goose quill and just touched 
lightly with the nub and made a very fine row of "a's." Still the 
slap. "Make it more oval, sir." "Well, now, I know w^hat it 
means. I make my 'a's' too straight up. I must make them 
slanting a little." So, he made a row of "a's" leaning at graceful 
angles. The inevitable slap again, and one or two steps further 
I think he carried it. 

The late Phillip Brooks, as soon as he graduated, was sent to 
take a section in a graded school of Boston. He failed completely 
as a teacher. This explanation should be made, however. He was 

15— C. A. 



226 Addresses 

given a very hard, bad class that had driven off several teachers 
and threatened publicly beforehand to drive him off. He had no 
intimation of that. Teachers are treated very unfairly that way 
sometimes. At last the superintendent very politely told him that 
his resignation would be accepted, and added this for his comfort, 
that he had never known a man that failed in teaching that suc- 
ceeded in anything else, a very schoolmaster-like deliverance 
surely. Phillips Brooks, in the course of the few months that he 
taught, had whipped a boy and it rather was on his conscience. 
He was not sure that it was the best thing to do then, not that 
the boy did not deserve it. Years passed and the boy grew to be 
a man. He and Dr. Brooks met. Dr. Brooks with great frank- 
ness and candor brought up the subject, hoping that the old 
pupil would relieve his mind and assure him he had not whipped 
an innocent boy. With equal frankness the old pupil said : "No, 
Dr. Brooks, you whipped the wrong boy that time, but I have 
escaped so many whippings that I did deserve, I am rather 
thankful for one whipping that I did not deserve." 

The teacher may well regret not only quick punishment, but 
severe punishment. Now, I speak of that rather as a historical 
fossil. There is very little danger now, but are you surprised to 
hear of two instances which occurred in this State about a hun- 
dred years ago? Dr. Laborde in his early life went to school in 
Edgefield. He went to school to a man whose treatment he says 
was barbarous. He has known him to give one hundred lashes 
with a tough hickory. He has seen blood trickle down from the 
legs of the suffering boy on the floor. The boys learned to go 
prepared for it by extra padding of clothing, two or three suits. 
He says he has seen him ruin six switches in one whipping. That 
is a warning not likely to be repeated. 

Not far from the same time in Charleston a boy thirteen years 
of age came up to say his Latin lesson. He did not know it. The 
teacher said to him : "Now, I will read you fifty lines of Latin, 
and if you don't sit down right there at that table and give me a 
good translation of those fifty lines, I will whip you." That was 
a most unreasonable, unrighteous test to a boy of thirteen years 



J. H. Carlisle 227 

of age, but William Lowndes was not an ordinary boy. He sat 
down right then and there and gave him a good translation of 
the fifty lines that he had selected from a satire of Horace — pretty 
strong meat for a boy of thirteen. 

If parents are sometimes too severe with all their parental 
instinct to check them, what security is there that a stranger who 
has just associated with children for a few months, will not go to 
severity? If the schoolmaster who has no parental or kinship 
feeling, whose intercourse is professional, and that often means 
cold, is the judge, jury, sheriff, executioner, jailer, hangman, all 
in one, and court sits five hours a day and five days a week and 
seven months in the year, what physical, mental or moral law 
ensures it, that the teacher will stop just at the exact moment 
when he has vindicated the offense ? May it not happen that the 
whipping, however it began, is continued not because the teacher 
feels solemnly there is an evil spirit in this child that I must 
dislodge at any cost, but the whipping continues because the 
teacher is in a passion? There is some danger there. Arthur 
Helps makes a singular remark. He knows very few men whom 
he would trust with a switch in their hands if he, Arthur Helps, 
was a dog. A stranger can hardly show greater confidence 
in a teacher than to put in his care his children and give to him 
the right to punish them. Surely that confidence calls for a sacred 
response, that that last resort should be resorted to only rarely, 
calmly, wisely. We forget in holding children to responsibility 
in what a little world a boy or girl does move. We forget how 
narrow their horizon is. We forget how limited their vocabulary 
is, how short the list of words that they really and clearly under- 
stand. We forget another thing. We speak of the child being 
thoughtless and we insensibly, perhaps, convey into the word 
"thoughtless" a positive meaning as if all the child thought was 
deliberately turned in an evil direction. It means rather an 
unthoughtfulness. It is inexperience rather than deliberate 
thoughtlessness. 

I think any teacher in after years will regret some tasks that he 
has set his pupils. Many years ago an old grammar had a long 



228 Addresses 

list of more than a hundred verbs, irregulars they were then called, 
and some teachers required their pupils to get those lists of verbs 
by heart. They must not only learn an irregular verb when they 
saw it, but they must know all the irregular verbs in the lan- 
guage: "abide, abode, abode; arise, arose, arisen." There was a 
habit of requiring them in that day to give not only the rule for 
everything in parsing, but the number of that rule and perhaps 
the page of the book in which that rule is found. 

Dr. Harris, the able head, as you know, of the National Bureau, 
gives a statement of his early life. He was required to commit 
to memory a long definition of a city, about like this : "A city is 
a town with many inhabitants, incorporated with peculiar priv- 
ileges, governed by mayor, aldermen and other officers." Now, 
Dr. Harris said, "I had never been within thirty miles of a city. 
I didn't know one. There was no explanation given us. We were 
just required to get that by heart." The whole class failed one 
day. The whole class had to stay in. Harris says he repressed 
his feelings. How afflicted he was with the punishment, but they 
kept him there until he could repeat after the teacher all that 
definition and then he was let go. Now, if the object was, and it 
must have been that, to improve the memory of those boys at the 
expense of their temper and patience, why didn't the teacher 
make them begin at the end of that definition and repeat it back- 
wards, or why did he not do what some teachers have done, make 
them get their lesson holding the book upside down ? In my time 
I met some older men of a preceding generation who had gone to 
school in northern Ireland in the first of the last century. They 
described a usage that may strike you as a little singular. They 
said in their reading lesson if they came to a word, say of three 
syllables or more, too hard a word for the pupil to manage, and 
they had found out that even the schoolmaster did not like to be 
embarrassed with hard words, it was perfectly in order for them 
in their reading lesson when they came to such a word just to say 
"skip over" and go right on, leaving the word there. For instance, 
now, let us take the Declaration of Independence. The first 
sentence would contain two words "Declaration" and "Indepen- 



J. H. Carlisle 229 

dence" which would be skipped over. Now, we will begin it: 
"When in the course of human events it becomes — skip over — 
for one nation to — skip over — the — skip over — bands — ." That 
does have rather a ludicrous air about it. Now, tell me seriously, 
what is the great difference between the Irish schoolmaster of the 
last century and the American schoolmaster of this century that 
makes the child repeat long words without any explanation what- 
ever? He would make the boy repeat "declaration of indepen- 
dence" when he might as well have him repeat "independence of 
declaration," just as much sense and clear thought in one as in 
the other. 

Not wishing to draw a moral to anybody in an unseemly way, 
I do feel li]i:e saying to the younger teachers here, not as teachers 
but as learners in the school of life, reviewing the hard book that 
Providence puts before his children : you will find some very hard 
words, some very mysterious sentences, some difficult problems; 
may it not be well at last for you just quietly and humbly to 
whisper "skip over," and leave it unexplained in your words, as to 
worry over it and think you have to analyze it and give it some 
big name from philosophy or theology? Try the experiment. 

In the "Sunday School Times," an excellent paper of very large 
circulation, lately the editor was called upon to ask this question. 
I think you can see how he would have answered it himself : "Is 
unintelligent memorizing a help or a hindrance to knowledge?" 
Certainly later in life the great defect, the cardinal defect, the 
critical defect, is using words without meaning or with a wrong 
meaning. Is it best, therefore, in early life to require and 
encourage a habit which will tax the pupil all his later years to 
destroy or correct?" I know that is rather a wide subject. Twill 
dismiss it with this remark, which I make confidently : whatever 
your present opinion may be on that question of requiring defini- 
tions in memory without much explanation, I venture this pre- 
diction, whatever your opinion now is, if you keep on, as I hope 
you will, a growing teacher, you will modify that opinion one way 
or the other in five years. 

Another point that gives regret is the injustice that may have 



230 Addresses 

been done pupils by marking their lessons closely. I know I 
touch a subject with two sides to it. I touch it very briefly. A 
living graduate of Harvard College, looking back to his school 
days, says it was a pitiful thing to see so intellectual a man as 
the president of Harvard College listening to a recitation, sitting 
with his pencil in his hand, with a thoughtful expression on his 
face, troubled to know whether he was to mark this boy's hurried 
recitation 7 or 8. There are some young teachers now that would 
say : "Well, I am sorry for that man. I haven't as much sense as 
the president of Harvard, but I don't ever have a serious thought. 
I just unconsciously, instinctively, suddenly and infallibly write 
5, 6, 7, 8, 9." 

There is a report told of a female college, not in this State. 
Years ago there were two competitors for an honor. I believe 
they were sisters. At the close of a long, faithful, studious, indus- 
trious college life, that honor depended on those lines of figures, 
how they would sum up. Well, the figures on the whole number 
side of the decimal point agreed. When they crossed the decimal 
point, the tenths agreed, the hundredths agreed. When they came 
to the thousandths there was a difference, and that was to decide 
the intellectual work, the intellectual worth of years of faithful 
study. Is that comedy or is it a tragedy ? 

And, of course, a teacher looking back as far as some of you, 
may feel regret that he has spent so many of his recitation hours 
in getting near the two extremes of recitations. It is easier to 
describe an extreme than it is to describe a golden mean. Here is 
a teacher. When his class comes before him he has about this 
feeling, if it is put in words: In the old days of slavery some- 
times in the cotton picking time about sundown this scene would 
take place in front of the cotton house. There are the stilliards, 
or the scales, and here come the men, women and children from 
the cotton patch. Their baskets are put upon the scales and if 
they do not come up to the notch required the overseer who stands 
near is ready to punish those who failed in their tasks. Now 
this man says : "That is my idea of a teacher. I have not a cow- 
hide in my hand, but I am here to govern. I am a fault marker, 



J. H. Carlisle 231 

not a fault mender. I am here to find out how deficient these boys 
are. I want to catch every fellow that does not show a full pre- 
paration of his lesson. As soon as I do that, and mark them, I 
will dismiss them. I have no more use for them. I am not sum- 
moned to supply their deficiency nor correct their mistakes. I am 
taking a census of the weaknesses and defects and mistakes of 
these boys and girls. That is my only object during this hour. 
As soon as that is done the class is dismissed." If he had a per- 
fectly good lesson, he would hardly know what to do, his occupa- 
tion would be gone. 

Now, the other is this : the teacher sees his class filing into his 
room, and he says to himself : "If you have wasted your time to 
prepare for this hour, I will try and not waste my part of it. 
Whatever you may know at the beginning of the hour, I am 
determined you shall know something before the hour is closed 
if I can get it into your minds. If the textbook and the lesson of 
the day will serve as a medium between you and me I will use it. 
If I find that is a nonconductor, that it puts you or me to sleep, I 
will throw that book down, and try some other access to your 
minds if that will suit you better, and if that fails I will throw 
all the books down, and if necessary I will get down on the floor 
with you and play a game of William Tremble toe with you. I 
had rather do that than to spend the recitation hour with mum- 
mies and fossils propped up in these recitation chairs with me. I 
will have some life." 

These are the two extremes. Between those two there is a 
golden line, a golden zone. I know it is there. I have been there 
often. I am sure of it. I will tell you why. I have spent too 
many hours — it does not give me pleasure to think of them — 
away on this extreme and then suddenly away on that extreme, 
and, of course, in going from one extreme to the other, I have 
crossed that line. Don't you see now that I am a familiar visitor 
on that line? But as to finding that zone or keeping it, I have 
had no success, young teachers, worth reporting. You must be 
careful not to do your pupil's work, and don't ask him to do 
yours. 



232 Addresses 

I have given you a few items under the general head of teacher 
expecting too much of his pupils. The second general point is 
this. He regrets that he has done so little for them. He has 
shown so little sympathy for them. Take the surroundings of 
the child. There is not a school in this State, I venture to say, 
where there are not some children, some boy or girl, whose inner, 
domestic, home life, if known to you, would make you uncover 
your head before that child. It has not only an unintellectual 
home; it is perhaps a cold home. The domestic, loving atmosphere 
is chilled, or the family name may be soiled, and those sensitive 
children entering life feel it in the streets, that they are entering 
life with a shadow over them. Oh, there is not a boy or girl that 
can call for greater sympathy ! And he has had too little sym- 
pathy with the intellect of the child. In every school the teacher 
may expect to find pupils brighter than he was at their age. That 
is the general rule. There are also some duller than you were. 
You may not be able to put yourself in their positions. It is for- 
tunate for the country that there are only a few mathematical 
geniuses in every generation. A few years ago, at the national con- 
vention of teachers, I had the pleasure of meeting certainly, I 
think, the greatest mathematical genius in many respects now 
living. He told me that it was not until his own children struck a 
certain part of mathematics that he found how unreasonable he 
had been in his requirements of boys. He was remarkable him- 
self. What an ordinary boy looked upon as a hard problem was 
an axiom to him. It is not easy for men and women with good 
eyes to put themselves in the place of their short-sighted, dim- 
eyed friends. 

The teacher may well regret that he has felt too little interest 
in his school either generally or individually. I do not say that a 
teacher should regret that he has not felt parental interest in each 
child. You need not fret yourself about trying to do that. You 
cannot feel a parental interest in every child that you have under 
your care, but you can feel more than a mere professional interest. 
I believe, in looking back through years, I can now think of one 
or two pupils, boys, in whom at the time I could not see a single 



J. H. Carlisle 233 

redeeming, attractive feature, everything repulsive, countenance, 
air, tone, manners, morals, as far as I knew. Now, looking back, 
I see that was my defect. I was blind and narrow or I ought to 
have seen something there. But suppose the worst true, suppose 
for a moment, a human being entering life in that sad condition. 
Providence has stamped on him the bodily characteristics which 
do not appeal to the kindly regards of any one. Does any human 
being deserve sympathy more than that jDoor child ? Yet you will 
not find him such if you look closely and charitably. Our Caro- 
lina jjoet says, "There is no unimpressive spot on earth." Kightly 
understood, that is true. Surely, then, we can say there is no 
unimpressive human being. There is no human being fearfully 
and wonderfully made, with God's image stamped upon it, that 
is absolutely unimpressive, hideous, revolting, unattractive, not 
deserving sympathy or consideration. Coleridge, I think it is 
who says : "Every human face that we meet is either a history or 
a prophecy which if we could read aright would soften, touch us. 
instruct us." The faces of children are mainly prophecies rather 
than histories, but even there you may see where early suffering 
has done its work. 

But there is another regret. Not only has the teacher felt too 
little interest. He has not shown all he felt. Red tape of the 
schoolhouse, pedagogical dignity has kept him from it. He is 
afraid that he might lower himself while the children around 
him are hungering and thirsting for an unprofessional touch or 
word of kindness. He may regret, too, that he has not made as 
few rules as possible for the school, and those few rules as wise 
as possible, and stood ready to change them for wiser rules as 
soon as that is possible. Teachers sometimes have to be reminded 
of this very commonplace truth: Children were not made and 
sent to school just to keep your rules. Your rules were made to 
help children. There are times, rarely the case, but there are 
times, when the best way to keep the spirit of a rule is to break 
the letter of it and make a better rule. How far the teacher 
should give help to pupils is a very delicate question, but even a 
teacher may regret, if he has withheld help from a child, not 



234 Addresses 

because he thought it best for the child to struggle with the 
problem alone, as is often the case, but because he was too 
ignorant or too indolent just then to help it. I believe I will risk 
telling you teachers a professional secret. I think you ought to 
know it before long. If you will put your ear close to the ground 
of your schoolroom and listen you will hear a little tremulous 
vibration, not distinctly in a rumor yet, but it is approaching this 
state of things: Anxious mothers will say, "We poor mothers 
have to give so many hours in the evening to teach these lessons 
that you bring home. We are the teachers. Those men and women 
at the schoolroom just hear the lessons. We intend to propose 
before long to change places. If they will spend five hours in the 
schoolroom and teach their lessons to the children, we will try 
and find time to hear them." That is a professional secret look- 
ing to the future, remember. 

A few months ago a teacher, I think connected with Clark Uni- 
versity, sent out more than a thousand circulars to boys and girls, 
young men and young women rather. He was wanting to find 
light on several questions. First, what is the feeling of children 
towards their own teachers? Which are the more grateful, men 
or women ? What is the most impressible age of a boy and what 
of a girl? That is, they asked each one: At what age do you 
think the deepest impressions were made on you ? I have not seen 
the full reports, only a little abstract of it, but it was very 
striking. I am glad to say, ladies, that the general majority said 
there was more cause of gratitude to women teachers than to men 
teachers. Indeed, with regard to the men, there was a very sad 
and startling revelation made. Figures never lie. A very large 
per cent, instead of any gratitude to their teachers expressed 
hatred, and put this expression — it is quoted, so I suppose a good 
many of them used it — "We hate them for that malevolence which 
injured us." I confess that startled me. With some knowledge 
of a good many teachers, I have been at a loss to point out more 
than one of them, if that many, that I consider malevolent 
teachers, and yet it occurred to me: suppose we divide teachers 
into two classes: malevolent, benevolent. How many of us are 
benevolent teachers ? 



J. H. Carlisle 235 

It is found that at the age of sixteen years, by common consent 
of all those boys, they were most impressible. Girls reached it 
earlier, fourteen. Remember those ages, critical ages. The wheel 
turns fast, mould soft material as well as you can. 

Now, that suggests the regret that a teacher has done so little 
to deserve the gratitude of pupils, I have copied two experiences 
of distinguished men. Edward Everett Hale, looking back to his 
school and college life, says, "There are teachers to whom I am 
profoundly and eternally indebted, but not my college teachers 
who made me hate the languages." President E. G. Robinson 
says : "To the teachers into whose hands I fell during the first six- 
teen years of my life I find it impossible to be grateful. Of those 
whom I have subsequently met, for the good offices of some I am 
profoundly thankful, while for the services of others my grate- 
ful emotions have not always been irrespressible." A teacher may 
well regret that he has done too little even in the way of tuition. 
If you will take up a good dictionary and look for the word 
"tuition," you may be surprised. Teaching, imparting informa- 
tion, is not the chief original idea of that word tuition. It is 
protection, guarding, and the teacher often forgets that the lesson 
is only a means to guard by. As some one has said : "It is one 
thing to decline the noun 'virtus,' and another thing to practise 
virtue." That is to say, a pupil may in the grammatical sense 
of the word decline virtus or virtue, and in the truer and deeper 
sense of the word, decline all virtues. 

Edward Everett Hale was fortunate enough to be in college 
when Longfellow began his splendid career as a professor. Look- 
ing back over sixty years. Dr. Hale says, "Poor teachers always 
let the textbook come in between them and their pupils. Great 
teachers never do." Longfellow never did. 

Nearly two centuries ago a teacher in Europe said : "The chief 
thing is not to inform our pupils but to form them." That means 
it is not information but it is formation. Now, I want to propose 
one or two very serious questions to you teachers: After State 
and church and private wealth have done all they can do to 
furnish colleges, schools, endowments, is it possible that after all 



236 Addresses 

the result may only be streams of well-informed but badly formed 
or unformed young people? The late version of the New Testa- 
ment gives one of Paul's rich sentences in these words : "Knowl- 
edge builds up conceit, love builds up character." The knowledge 
you give your pupils may build up conceit ; love, the proper direc- 
tion and training of the moral motives, gives character. Is it 
possible, then, that when State and church and private wealth 
have poured out their wealth like water, the result is streams and 
hordes of conceited, characterless people? In the old version 
these words are used: "Knowledge puffeth up, charity buildeth 
up." Is it possible, then, that all the colleges and graded schools 
may fill the land with graduates puffed up and not built up ? It 
is possible. You hear the whistle of the factories. The factory 
man can predict so many looms, so many wheels, so many oper- 
atives, so many hours a day, so many weeks or months, how many 
yards of cloth of a certain grade they can turn out, and do this 
with accuracy. How is it in your work ? So many graded schools, 
so many teachers, so many thousand dollars endowment, can you 
say you will turn out so many well trained boys and girls? At 
Niagara for untold millenniums a mass of water has been falling, 
idly, noisily, uselessly, as we take it, over the precipice. Lately 
science has found a key. Now, that water that was useless, so 
long unutilized, floods the city of Buffalo thirty miles away with 
a light that is almost equal to the light of the sun at noonday, A 
falling stream and an electric light. There must be a medium. 
Well-endowed schoolhouses and good teachers: now, what is the 
result ? There is a missing link in the golden chain there. There 
is an unknown quantity that you cannot predict. Cowper said : 
"God made the country, man made the town." There is a half 
truth there. There is a whole truth in this statement : God made 
the parental relation, man made the relation of the teacher. Your 
relation is artificial. It is evidently a product of society, but it 
is a very deep and responsible one nevertheless. 

That great teacher, the prophet Moses, that looked in the lives 
of the people, called out to them in this startling appeal, after 
telling them what God had done to teach them and discipline 



J. H. Carlisle 237 

them : "And yet ye are come up in your Father's stead an increase 
of sinful men to augment yet more the fierce anger of the Lord 
towards Israel." That is a terrific phrase "an increase of sinful 
men." Teachers, it is well for you to remember that of every 
fault, vice, weakness in your life and character, an indefinite 
number of copies may be taken. Your pupils are taking snapshots 
at your character, and inserting them into their own. 

Now, I want to get a little closer to you still, and leave the 
third and second persons and use the first. I should say in all 
sincerity and with regret, looking back through all the crises and 
collisions of a teacher's life, I have been wrong about as often as 
my pupils have been. I have spoken improperly to them, I 
believe, as often as they have spoken improperly to me. I have 
not the slightest regret for taking too much interest in any human 
being. That is never to be regretted. The regret is deep on the 
other side. Horace Mann says somewhere, with extravagance 
and yet with meaning: "A teacher talk of getting tired in his 
work? Why, an angel himself that has just opened the golden 
gate of heaven and let a mortal in might as well talk of feeling 
tired in his blessed ministry." 

Now, with what little explanation I can give you, I will state 
as the closing sentence, the regret of my life. Horace Bushnell a 
half century ago wrote a sermon the reading of which will be an 
era in your life if it ever comes into your hands. It is on "Uncon- 
scious Influence." It is founded on the simple little incident of 
that memorable Sunday morning in the world's history when the 
two apostles, the older and the younger men, started running to 
the tomb. The younger man, John, reached there first, and John- 
like, stopped outside and looked reverently in. Peter comes rush- 
ing up and Peter-like started in to see for himself. "Then went 
in also that other disciple." Those were the words, the text of 
Bushnell's sermon, the idea being this : John was not distinctly 
conscious of following Peter. Peter did not intend to draw John 
after him. That is an unconscious influence, an influence not 
deliberate, not intentional, and yet for it we are held responsible 
justly, because unconscious influence follows my character. Influ- 



238 Addresses 

ence follows character as certainly as shadow follows a body in 
the sunlight. I think probably that remarkable sermon suggested 
to Professor Huntington, now Bishop Huntington, a remarkable 
lecture to the Teachers' Convention, "Unconscious Tuition." He 
takes the same thought and applies it rather secularly as Bushnell 
did religiously. 

Now, my dear young friends, teachers, it will be my regret 
through the few years that may be granted me that the influence, 
conscious and unconscious, the tuition, conscious and unconscious, 
that have gone out from me as a teacher have not been higher, 
nobler, purer. 



NoTK : See "Some of the Mistakes Which a Young Teacher May Make." 



J. H. Carlisle 239 



ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE GRADUATING CLASS, 
WOFFORD COLLEGE, SPARTANBURG, S. C, JUNE 5, 1904. 

Subject: Mark xv 1-15. 

Millions of readers have had the words of this Sunday school 
lesson to pass through their minds today. It is touching to read 
the story, as told in parts by the four gospels. The efforts of the 
unhappy judge to avoid the desperate step which he did take at 
last, are pathetic. Four times at different stages in the trial the 
prisoner was pronounced innocent. Pilate sent him to Herod, 
hoping that officer might finally decide the case. Failing in this, 
he agreed to scourge the friendless one, if that would satisfy their 
thirst for his blood. He then offered to the crowd the choice 
between the innocent sufferer and a notorious robber and mur- 
derer. After that, he publicly washed his hands, to show by a 
striking act that he wished to be free from blood. Then, calling 
the prisoner with the crown of thorns on his head, when the 
merciless Roman scourgers had done their work, to stand by his 
side, he asked the maddened crowd to look at the man, hoping 
the sight might move them to pity. At last, he made the men 
clamoring for their victim say that the blood might rest on them 
and on their children. It is painfully clear that Pilate did not wish 
Jesus put to death. He really wished to release Him, Yet the 
record reads, "And so, Pilate willing to content the people, 
released Barabas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had 
scourged Him, to be crucified." The word willing here may mis- 
lead the reader. It has undergone an unfortunate change of 
meaning. "I will to do that." These words, with emphasis on the 
first verb, have an energy of purpose in them. But we put the 
two verbs together, sinking the first into a helper to the other, 
throwing the act into the future. "I will do that," and softening 
that into "I'll do that." John says "Pilate sought to release 
Jesus." A few weeks later, Peter told the murderers to their 
faces, "Ye denied Him in the presence of Pilate, when he was 



240 Addresses 

determined to let Him go." Pilate sought to release Him, 
determined to let Him go, with a condition. If this could be done 
without loss or risk to the judge, it would have been done gladly. 
The record really means more than that Pilate was passively 
willing to please the people. He willed to please them, he made 
up his mind to please them, he determined, in any event, to make 
it all right with the people — this being the real meaning of the 
words. Perhaps this incident may furnish some thoughts, to fill 
up the last Sunday hour in the college life, of the young people 
now before us, under circumstances of peculiar interest. The 
chief moral of the incident for us lies on the surface. It is dan- 
gerous to let lower motives have place where great issues are 
involved. Second and third rate appeals should not be considered 
when first rate questions are discussed. 

Several questions usually meet young people as they leave col- 
lege. Students often ask each other, in lighter or more serious 
words, "Well, what do you expect to do when you leave here?" 
Or, with that directness, that they use when in earnest, the ques- 
tion may be, "Wliat do you expect to be?" Even the young know 
that being is more than doing, and must go before it. And yet 
to others, it is only by doing that we can show our being. Wliat 
we are is known by what we do, conduct shows character. What 
then is to be your calling, your business, your life work? That 
question can not be put off any longer. It is possible that the 
friends of education in their zeal have sometimes struck a false 
or exaggerated note in their warnings against a money standard 
of life. We are told that it is better to make a life than to make 
a living. This is a valuable half-truth, like most maxims, if it is 
not torn from its other half. In many cases, it is not possible for 
a young man to make a worthy life, unless he is making a living. 
The late Dr. Joseph Cook was thirty-five years of age before he 
had to think of the money side of his life. His good father was 
able and willing to relieve him entirely of this charge. He could go 
through his academic, college, seminary courses here, and then 
spend several years in the old world, making a noble life which 
was to ennoble other lives later, while his father met all his wants. 



J. H. Carlisle 241 

Perhaps it is well that most young men have to meet the prosaic 
question of making a living, at an earlier age than thirty-five. 
Unless the demands of shelter, food, clothing, books, and the 
conveniences of life, are met for you, in a way that you can accept 
with self-respect, you must meet them at once. You will not be 
so weak, so unwise, as to neglect them, leaving board bills unpaid, 
"taking up goods without the probability of paying for them," 
yet all the while flattering yourself that you are making a life. 
The occupations open to young men and young women are multi- 
plying rapidly. You have a wide circle from which to make a 
choice. Let the one selected touch directly some of the wants 
and interests of your fellowmen. Let it involve some round of 
daily duties, which will help to build up your own character, and 
to express that character to others. Do not let it be a mask to 
hide, or a casket to bury, your inner, real self. Never consent to 
be only a business man, or only a professional man. The man is 
more than the tradesman. The called is more than the calling. 
Paul was more than the tent-maker, as Luke was more than the 
physician. Victoria, the Christian wife and mother, was more 
than the queen. Eobert E. Lee parted with none of his greatness 
when he laid aside the starred uniform of a general. To succeed 
in any calling is only a means to a higher end. That end is to 
upbuild, to enlarge, to enrich, a pure, strong character. In these 
days every business has its weak and dangerous points. The keen 
competition, the restless spirit, the brilliant prizes that seem in 
reach of the daring, and unscrupulous, try the souls of those in 
the current of strenuous life. Walk in your integrity, in the 
numerical, as well as in the moral sense of that word. Do not be 
contented to be a part of a man, even a brilliant fraction, a spark- 
ling fragment of a man. Walk erect in your integrity, in all the 
full sweep and scope of a complete manhood. Coleridge says 
there are two Bibles in reach of every man, the written volume, 
and his own daily work. "The trivial round, the common task," 
of your calling, may be to you a fresh volume every day. 

Another question closely connected with that of your life work 
is, "Where shall I pursue my chosen calling?" That question has 

16— C. A. 



242 Addresses 

far-reaching results. You will be influenced by your surround- 
ings. And the community will be influenced by you. You will 
be a stronger or a weaker man, because you live in a place, and 
that place will be richer or poorer, in several meanings of these 
words, because your home is there. If you choose a city life, you 
must become used to care-encumbered men passing you on the 
pavement, with as little recognition or sympathy, as is shown by 
the heavily laden dray horses, as they pass each other in the 
streets. Town life, village life, country life, all have their own 
peculiar features of helps and hindrances. In any case, you will 
be affected by your environments. "And Lot lifted up his eyes, 
and beheld the plain of Jordan, that it was well watered every- 
where." These words of the sacred historian, taken in connection 
with the after-history of Lot's family, have been the text of many 
a warning against the hasty choice of a home because of some 
alluring features. 

Your place being chosen, you will find yourself surrounded by 
many circles of different sizes, beginning with a small one of 
special friends, wider ones, for other friends, well-wishers, 
acquaintances, strangers, and the great world around. In every 
complete life there is in the center a very small circle, consisting 
of two persons, holding for life the tenderest, the most sacred, 
the most influential relation, which two human beings can possi- 
bly hold from choice. This subject is too often referred to in 
the spirit of jesting and banter. In no such mood is it approached 
tonight. The decision of that question will be a distinct crisis in 
your life. It will be more than that. It will be a crisis in the 
lives of two persons, and of two families. A happy selection here 
may outweigh some mistakes in settling other questions. But, if 
through haste, ignorance, or folly, you err at this point, no pos- 
sible success in other fields can give you the happy home for 
which you long. Tupper, in his "Proverbial Philosophy," has 
these lines worth quoting : 

"If thou art to have a wife of thy youth, 
She is now living on the earth ; 
Therefore, think of her, and pray for her weal, 
Yea, though thou hast not seen her." 



J. H. Carlisle 243 

This is not cant or barren sentiment. It is sober, religious com- 
mon sense and wisdom. Let one appeal be made with all possible 
emphasis. She has a right to demand from you the same upright- 
ness, honor, integrity of character and life that you expect to find 
in her. Let no inferior motives enter into your decision of any 
one of these three pressing questions. A great American preacher 
has a sermon on "Help from the Hills," from the text, "I will 
look to the hills whence cometh my help." You may think this 
rather a poetical or picturesque treatment of the verse, but it is 
reverent and suggestive. Draw your motives, comforts and helps 
of all kinds, from the highest sources. Keep all the upper win- 
dows open to let in the purer light. The lower motives, like the 
lower appetites, are clamorous, but they must be kept in their 
right places. These may be divided into two classes, the one 
craving wealth, and the other fame. The diificuty here is that 
neither of these spring from a feeling that is wrong or sinful in 
itself. To wish for a competency is not a weakness or a fault. 
It is a healthy feature, in any good man or woman. The great 
danger lies in the abuse of this proper feeling. Here we may 
find in our New Testament another instance of the wrong use of 
the word. Paul speaks of those "who will be rich." He does not 
mean those who may come to be rich hereafter. He means those 
now willing to be rich, planning, resolving, determining to be 
rich, believing their lives will be failures if they do not become 
rich. Paul says, these men "fall into temptations, and a snare, 
and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in 
destruction and perdition." As you go through life, with ears 
and eyes open, reading the newspapers, you will find Paul's ter- 
rible prophecy amply fulfilled. Drowning men are today strug- 
gling and sinking in "the loud stunning tide of human care and 
crime," that is deluging this money-loving land of ours. Long 
ago, the wise men said, "He that hasteth to be rich, hath an evil 
eye." Today, there are scores of private citizens who are richer 
than any of the Caesars ever were. And there are millions of 
tempted men today who need Paul's warning, as much as did any 
of the dwellers in Corinth or Rome. An old father is quoted as 



244 Addresses 

saying, there are two things with which a man should be chary 
and tender, his conscience and his credit. 

A like danger threatens the man who hasteth to be popular, or 
is greedy for fame. The men, unhappy if the newspapers do not 
keep their names and deeds before the public, and if they cannot 
continually "beat their names on the drum of the world's ear" — 
these men have fallen into Paul's snare and temptations. Here 
again it is the abuse of a natural feeling that is dangerous. 
Inspired men praise a good name, but not a great name. The 
confidence of those immediately around you is not to be despised. 
It is to be highly esteemed. Many a worthy man is known only 
in a small circle. His name may never be in print, until, perhaps, 
the country newspaper may give him a few lines in an obituary. 
But he has a good name, better than great riches. Our language 
seems to make little provision for such men. We speak of some 
men as famous. There should be a word for all others, but the 
word in- famous becomes infamous, as if all men must be famous 
in a good or bad sense. It is well that few of our rac« earn either 
of these adjectives. 

We turn at once to the sacred pages for examples of character. 
Let us see how Paul touched these two strong impulses of our 
nature, love of money, and of fame. He could say, "I know both, 
how to be abased, and I know how to abound, everywhere, and 
in all things, I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, 
both to abound and to suffer need." As to popularity, we know 
from his history, that he might have said, "I know what it is to 
be cheered, and to be hissed. I know what it is to be popular 
and unpopular. I have been welcomed into a town, and I have 
been driven out of the town, as a wild beast. I have had admirers 
to crowd around me, fawning on me, ready to worship me as a 
superior being, and in a few hours I was left for dead on the 
ground, with a shower of stones all around me." At one time, 
where the highest ranges of duty in perilous times were involved, 
Paul could boldly declare, "But with me, it is a very small thing, 
that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment." Yet 
again, when the question of reporting a collection, with which he 



J. H. Carlisle 245 

had been entrusted, came up, he takes care "That no man should 
blame us in this abundance which is administered by us." And 
again he writes, "I rejoice that I have confidence in you in all 
things." He valued a good name more than fame. Let no 
unworthy motive urge you to covet the public ear or eye. The 
best way to gain confidence or consideration is to deserve it. This 
you can do. This you must do, or your character and life are 
failures. Take great care of character. Reputation will then 
take care of itself. There are rare times in which reputation 
must be endangered, or given up entirely, to save character. 
Character is never to be given up to save reputation, or even life 
itself. The duties of life are higher than life, is a good maxim. 
Both of these clamorous desires for wealth and fame come from 
one source, the pride of life, which the Apostle John dreaded. 
Or, using the speech of common life, we may say that both come 
from selfishness. In our own language, there are more than four 
hundred compound words, each beginning with self. You may 
recall Faber's fine lines : 

"O, I could go through all life's troubles singing, 

Turning earth's night into day, 
If self was not so fast around me, clinging. 

To all I do or say." 

Depend only on the highest motives, when you contend against 
selfishness. Let not self "shake the wavering balance" in a 
critical moment, and any common moment may be critical. In all 
deliberative bodies, there are some questions that must be decided 
without argument. It is so in the life of every deliberative per- 
son. Often in common life there may suddenly spring up from 
within, or from without, suggestions that must be laid on the 
table without debate. Many have read the popular story, in 
which a Scotch physician is called to see a patient, when a 
dreaded disease is striking at his vitals. "He has not sinned 
against nature, and she will stand by him now in his hour of 
distress," were the brave and hopeful words with which the good 
doctor began his weary, anxious, successful night watch with the 



246 Addresses 

sufferer. He who has not abused his nature will come with great 
advantage to a stern crisis in his life. 

There is another question, still more important, where unworthy 
motives are dangerous. In a few days you will receive your 
diploma. The date which it bears will place you in proper con- 
nection with our Lord's birth. Whenever you write, however 
hurriedly, the figures 1904, you take your distinct relation to Him, 
in the strange world of time, the ceaseless flow of minutes, and 
centuries. You link your life with His earthly life. At the 
moment when that diploma is handed to you, your attitude 
towards Him, in your affections, heart and will, places you in 
your true relation to Him, in the stranger world of character. 
You link your moral being with Him, or you are arrayed against 
Him. No human being we suppose can ever hold exactly the 
same relation which the unhappy Roman officer bore to our Lord. 
But every intelligent being must hold a critical position in this 
respect. In this supreme question of fidelity to Him, let no 
smaller motives have any place. Ignorant men misrepresent the 
great interest of religion. Unfair men treat it very unfairly. 
Narrow men dwarf and distort it. Even sincere believers do not 
always embody it worthily, or atttractively, in their characters 
and lives. Let none of these painful facts as they meet you in 
life, turn you away from the greatest subject that can claim your 
attention. To accept the offer of Infinite love, for the purification 
and perfection of our nature — this is the great end of life to be 
kept in view. Let that decide your creed, your church relations, 
your standards of daily living. Enter into no church member- 
ship from unworthy motives. Let no unworthy motives keep you 
without. 

Pilate had no prejudice against Jesus. He knew that for envy 
the Jews had arrested him. He was anxious to rescue Him, if 
it could be done with safety to his own office and salary. His 
feelings really were, "I will dismiss the prisoner at once, if you 
will let me." Think of a judge in our day, with a question fairly 
within his discretion, where the rights, even the life of an inno- 
cent one are involved. Instead of consulting his law books and 



J. H. Carlisle 247 

his conscience, he leaves it to the votes of the crowd gathered 
around the courthouse at an exciting trial ! 

To add to the tragedy of this trial, a person who knew far 
more of the prisoner than the judge did, took a shameful part. 
The heathen judge timidly said, "I find no cause of death in 
Him, I will therefore chastise Him and let Him go." A few 
hours before, a Jew, one of the inner circle of his family, went 
to his enemies who were at a loss for the means to secure their 
victim quietly, and safely, and surprised them by his bold offer, 
"What will you give me, and I will deliver Him unto you?" 
Here was the greater sin. Renan, the brillant French skeptic, 
remembering that Judas was the treasurer of the band, says, 
"The treasurer must have slain the Apostle." Such slaying, such 
assassination, may take place in every age, in every country, and 
in every church. The danger is greater, as the churches grow in 
numbers, wealth, in array of oflSces, perquisites and plants. The 
official slays the Apostle, the minister, the Christian. In secular 
life, the same deterioration and degradation of character may 
follow. The money drawer, the bank account, may slay the 
upright merchant, the fair-minded lawyer, the skillful physician, 
the brilliant statesman. See to it that your calling, whether 
sacred or secular, does not slay the Christian or the man. 

Pilate was afraid of the crowd more than he was of doing 
wrong to an innocent man in his power. And he was afraid of a 
' man, as well as of men. "If thou let this man go, thou art not 
Caesar's friend!" This was one of the closing appeals that 
decided him. If he must give up one, Caesar or Jesus, he could 
not hesitate, or rather, he made a wrong decision, after painful 
hesitation. He seemed to come so near to reaching one of the 
highest points in human history, and yet, he fell so far below it. 
Perhaps myriads of higher intelligences were looking on the 
scene. Certainly, through all the ages since, men have been 
looking back to it, with painful interest. Yet he failed. He let 
lower motives rule the hour. He made the great refusal to do 
right. If he had given way to the highest motives, as the worst 
that could possibly have followed, he might have been the first 



248 Addresses 

Christian martyr, anticipating Stephen's crown. Let all possible 
alleviations be given to Pilate's conduct. Compared with Herod, 
he deserves some praise. That vain official led the way, in the 
shameful treatment of the prisoner, by the savage attendants on 
his court. No charge of that kind is laid against Pilate. Com- 
pare Pilate with one of his successors a few years later. Felix 
left his innocent prisoner Paul in bonds for two years, hoping 
that a bribe would be offered for his release. Pilate never stooped 
to that low plane. He did not say to the eager crowd, "Pay me 
my price, and I will sign the death warrant at once." On the 
other hand, he did not say, "I will pay you liberally, if you will 
let me release the prisoner." Motives not of the most ignoble kind 
may be unworthy. They may show a weak character, and, when 
indulged, may make that character still weaker. 

History tells us that Pilate lost Csesar's favor in a few years. 
We do not know his end, the accounts varying between the death 
of a lonely exile, and that of a wretched suicide. A touching inci- 
dent, not connected with our main current of thought, may be 
mentioned. There is no record of a harsh word ever spoken to 
Jesus by any woman. A few hours before this trial, as He was 
led along His sorrowfiil way, through the darkened streets, some 
Jewish women, meeting Him, gave Him the tribute of their tears. 
And the anxious, hesitating judge must have been startled when 
a servant from the palace hurried into the courtroom, with the 
abrupt message from his wife, "Have thou nothing to do with 
that just man, for I have suffered many things this day, in a 
dream, because of Him." Mothers and wives spend many lonely 
hours, in palaces and cottages, with busy hands and burdened 
hearts, suffering many things in dreams, by day and by night, 
because of the loved ones out in the perilous walks of life. How 
many household tragedies might be avoided if husbands and sons 
would listen to their tender and timely appeals ! As we look 
back, knowing the two chief parties in this trial as we do, it 
startles us to hear Pilate say to Jesus, "Speakest thou not unto 
me? Knowest thou not, that I have power to crucify thee, and 
have power to release thee?" The test of character is not in the 



J. H. Carlisle . 249 

possession of power, but in its use. A great mystery of life, per- 
haps we may say the great recurring mystery of human life, is 
that power is so often lodged in unsafe hands, as we reckon them. 
Are we surprised, that in the troubled times of Roman history, 
a court officer had power to utter these strange words? Look at 
something stranger still today. A private man, standing in the 
blaze of Christian civilization, when two thousand years have 
done homage to our Lord, can say with fearful emphasis by his 
daily life, "I have power to defy Thee openly before men, to 
take Thy holiest names and attributes and scatter them through 
my common talk. I can challenge Thee every hour in the day, 
to show Thy might, by crushing me. I can, for my amusement, 
crucify Thee afresh and put Thee to an open shame. And this 
strange power, I will use to the utmost, wherever I wish." This 
painful feature of the trial may be repeated in the lives of 
thoughtless men. We may feel like repeating a question, which 
Pilate asked, when he saw the strange, causeless rage, against the 
blameless one, "Why, what evil hath he done?" Profane men, 
young and old ! Wliat has the Divine Son, or the Divine Father, 
done, to receive such treatment at your hands ? 

You have perhaps seen a young man give up one safeguard of 
character after another, to please the little college crowd. It 
was as if you could hear him say to his associates, "I bring from 
my home some resjoect for the Bible, the Sabbath, and the church. 
What will you give me to deliver them up to you? I think you 
ought to pay me well, for it costs me something to do this. I 
must crush all the impulses and instincts of my better nature, 
and it will pain my good parents, if you let them know the bar- 
gain we make. What will you pay me, by your votes and your 
applause, to give up all these ties, and come down to your level?" 
Have you ever known that young man to gain the respect and 
confidence of the men that bought him ? No, you have not. You 
have sometimes laiown a young man to give the substance of 
Nehemiah's manly answer, "I am doing a great work, and cannot 
come down to you." Have you ever known that young man to 
lose the full confidence and respect of the men who could not 



250 Addresses 

buy him? You never have. You will not readily find a com- 
munity where solid, consistent character is more respected than 
on a college campus. Yet, young men there are sometimes weak 
and make sad mistakes. A student once said frankly, "I thought 
I could let the Christian side of my character go down without 
injury to the other part, but I now see my mistake." 

This fear of men, of crowds, works in different directions, 
keeping men from following their higher impulses and again 
from following their lower. The shrewd men who were sent to 
meet Jesus were afraid to say that John's baptism was of men, 
"We fear the people, for all hold John a prophet." At one time 
the chief rulers were impressed, and felt like following Jesus, 
"but they loved tha praise of men, more than the praise of God." 
The parents of the man born blind, were afraid of being put out 
of synagogue, if they said much about the wonderful healer. His 
enemies were afraid to seize their victim openly on the feast day, 
for fear of an uproar among the people. 

Pilate's difficulty recurs in the life of a man today. "I will 
enter the church circle, if my companions will let me. I do want 
to be a Christian, but I want, still more, to be popular with those 
who are not Christians." To please them, the double minded, 
unstable man, goes his devious, downward way, unsatisfactory to 
both parties, and more unsatisfactory to himself. The word 
Pilatism has been used to represent that exact type of man. He 
never reaches the point where he can say, "My heart is fixed." 
Some Csesar is his master, his tyrant. He lives in fear of the 
threat, "If you do this, or do not that, thou art not our Caesar's 
friend." 

There is a great clamor, wise or unwise, just now, about educa- 
tion. Public and private beneficence, church and State, are 
pouring out their treasures in its behalf. At such a time, those 
young people who have had special privileges should be object 
lessons, arguments incarnate, for education. It will be unfor- 
tunate if now the schools and colleges send out streams of young 
people who "transgress their education," proving it to be useless, 
perhaps even hurtful. They should show that their training has 



J. H. Caklisle 251 

freed them from the rule of lower motives, and lifted them up 
into the higher liberty of being the bondsmen of duty for life. 
They escape from the occasional, incidental, "you must" of 
children and pupils, to come under the ceaseless, ever-present, 
"you ought," of intelligent, responsible beings. 

Those now passing from the stage, look with interest on the 
young who are girding themselves for the work of active life. 
A young man passes through his academic and college life with a 
fixed purpose. His means have been limited. He has had to 
stop for a year, at intervals, to raise supplies. At last, he grad- 
uates, with a debt over him, which is to be paid from his first 
earnings. With his eye on other fields to be won, he pursues his 
studies and his work, making a living while making his life 
broader and higher. With noble self-repression, he denies him- 
self many social outlets which he would enjoy, and pushes his 
way onward and upward to his desired end. On such a young 
man, older men look, not with interest only, but with admiration. 
When the student, neither over-rating nor under-rating his 
abilities, with humble trust, throws himself for the future con- 
fidently on the beneficent laws that guard society in its best 
estate, believing that some appropriate harvest will follow this 
prolonged, faithful sowing — this is a heroic type of character and 
faith. Let him throw himself more confidently, farther into the 
future, relying on the sure laws that prevail in the higher realms. 
Will not his character take on a still nobler, higher, purer type ? 

The bodies of Csesar and Pilate are turned to common dust. 
Their names are used chiefly to point a moral. The prisoner at 
Pilate's bar died, and rose again, to die no more. Of His king- 
dom there shall be no end. His name is most honored in the best 
nations, and by the best men and women living today. He rules 
the world on a plan far beyond our knowledge or our thought. 
He will guide the young man or woman, entering life, and asking 
for guidance and light. It often happens that graduates who 
have finished their course, without surrendering to the highest 
demands of duty, take that critical step in a few years after 
leaving college. The shock, when they strike the hard problems 



252 Addresses 

of manly life, sobers them, humbles them, strengthens them, and 
they become as little children. Their proper education, in the 
highest sense, then begins, as they go humbly yet hopefully, to 
meet the great unending future. 

A thousand years before Pilate, a saintly, though not a faultless 
man, in a meditative mood, dared to express a great hope, "The 
Lord will perfect that which concerneth me." Yet he seems to 
be startled at the thought of connecting perfection with his felt 
wants and limitations. He then recalled a ground for great 
thanksgiving, "Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth forever." Nothing 
less than forever enduring mercy could meet his forever enduring 
needs. He was on the border of a great conception, which human 
language cannot try to express without the words breaking down 
in contradictions; a finite creature forever approaching the for- 
ever unapproachable Father of spirits, and lover of souls. His 
baffled and anxious heart found outlet in a great prayer, "Forsake 
not the work of thine own hands." We may think of the good 
man as saying, "I can not bear to think of being left forever a 
useless, unfinished piece of Divine workmanship, with the Divine 
signature becoming fainter ; or, to be thrown aside in the rubbish 
of the universe, a forsaken work of His own hands." 

Pilate asked, "What is truth," and would not wait for an 
answer. Let us learn the lessons of his fall. His mysterious 
prisoner was, and is, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

Young friends of the graduating class : To recall this hour in 
your lives, and to move your thoughts to hope, to thanksgiving, 
and to prayer, take with you, to be repeated frequently, daily, if 
you will, these inspiring words of David in the last verse of the 
138th Psalm: 

The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me, 
Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth forever ; 
Forsake not the work of thine own hands. 

THE END. 



JUL 11 1910 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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